Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend
by CoyoteLoon
Summary: It's Career Week at Tremorton High, and Jenny is stuck with a lame job - until she stops a diamond thief and gains a wealthy admirer. Now she's the envy of all the girls, even Brit and Tiff. So why is Brad suspicious? (complete)
1. The Right Place at the Right Time

Obvious Disclaimer – The characters in this story are from the cartoon "My Life as a Teenage Robot" and I am blatantly stealing them!  Blatantly, I say!  My sole creation is the character of Drew, a human high school student who was accidentally turned into an android by Cluster nanotechnology.  It's explained in my first story "Android Scam".

I'd like to give special thanks to everybody who's ever submitted a review to one of my stories.  They're really appreciated, and they're real morale boosters when you're wondering whether anybody is actually reading these things.

One more quick note, as an experiment, I'm going to try writing shorter chapters, which means there'll probably be more of them.  Hopefully this will make the story easier to read.

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DIAMONDS ARE A ROBOT'S BEST FRIEND

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter One – The Right Place at the Right Time

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Brad fiddled with the camera's zoom and focus, until he got a nice, close-up shot of Jenny's face.  "Come on, smile!  Do some super robot stuff.  Shoot down a UFO or something!"

"Point that thing somewhere else," she scowled.  She was _not_ in the mood.

Brad clicked off a few pictures, to Jenny's disgust.  "Hey, how am I suppose to learn how this thing works unless I actually take some pictures with it?  Lighten up!"  He chuckled, then pointed the camera at her again.  "This is your star reporter, bringing you the story on Tremorton's very own teen superhero, Jenny Wakeman.  What makes this robot girl tick?  I'll have the exclusive for you on the front page of the Sunday edition!"

Jenny shook a fist at the camera.  "Maybe I should remind you, I had a rather unpleasant experience with mudslinging news reporter a while back."

"Hey, careful Jen, this thing's expensive!  I have to give it back at the end of the week."

"Well, the end of the week can't get here soon enough."

"Speak for yourself," grinned Brad.  "Career Week is going to be awesome!  Drew, you agree with me, don't you?"

Drew had his face half-buried in a photocopied map, trying to make sense of the directions as they walked through downtown.  "I'll tell you, when I find out what it is I'm actually supposed to be _doing_."

Indeed, it was Career Week at Tremorton High, a time when local businesses cooperated with the high school to give teenagers a taste of what life in the working world was going to be like.  Students would spend a week, after school, working as interns.  They'd write a report for class, and get some good-looking extracurricular activity for their school transcripts.  While the school tried to match up student requests with available slots, more people naturally asked for the exciting, glamorous, "cool" jobs.  So some students didn't get their first, or second, or third choice, and were assigned careers at random.  And there are lots of jobs in the world that aren't that cool - as Jenny knew painfully well, now.

"I can't believe I got … _auto mechanic_," she moaned.  "They probably thought I'd like it because I'm mechanical _myself_.  Gee, what girl wouldn't love a week cleaning up power steering fluid and rotating tires?"

"That's not so bad," said Brad, consoling her.  "Lots of guys would think that's pretty cool."

"Hey, just think," added Drew, "all the oil you can drink.  Sounds like a sweet gig."

"Ha, ha.  Brad's got the sweet gig.  How did you ever get to work at the Tremorton Tribune?"

"Clean living, and my winning personality," he grinned.  "This is going to be so great!  I actually get to work at the newspaper after school every day this week, with real newspaper writers!  I get to write a story and take pictures, and it's going to get printed in the Sunday paper this weekend.  How cool is that?!?"

"That sounds majorly cool," sighed Jenny.  "You get to write for the newspaper, and I get to change mufflers.  Drew, what are you going to be doing?"

"I still don't know.  It's some big office building down on Washington Boulevard.  Brown, Brown, Brown and Smith.  _That_ sure sounds exciting.  I'm _guessing_ that they're probably not _test pilots_."

Washington Boulevard was just one block away, so Brad and Jenny kept Drew company while they walked along the busy business district of downtown.  A few people turned and stared at Jenny - some even gave a friendly wave.  While Tremorton was getting used to its most famous teenage robot, almost nobody knew about its second one, Drew.  And that was perfectly fine, as far as he was concerned.  Since he'd learned to shape-shift, it had been easy to look like his old self again; blond hair, blue eyes, jeans and a t-shirt.  Just another teenager here, folks.  He felt a little guilty doing it around Jenny - she still had to put up with gawkers.  But _just_ a little.

"What's the point of Career Week, anyway?"  Jenny threw up her hands.  "It's a big waste of time.  Besides, _duh_, I've already got a career.  I fight crime and save the world!  It's what I was designed to do.  I should know, my mom reminds me at least twice a day."

"Choosing a career is important, Jen!" explained Brad.  "In a couple of years, we're going to be heading off to college, and we'll have to pick something to do for the rest of our lives.  The people who start getting ready now will get to be doctors, and lawyers, and astronauts.  _Those_ are careers.  The people who don't get ready will have to mop floors and fill vending machines with little twinkie cakes.  Those are _not_ careers.  So it's important, Jen.  We're not _all_ robots, programmed to know what we're supposed to do."

Drew gave Brad a funny look.  "You know, I'm a robot, and I don't have a _clue_ about what I'm supposed to do."

Brad rolled his eyes.  "All right, you're a bad example."

Something Jenny said had stuck in Drew's head.  "Jenny, you said your mom _designed_ you to fight crime and save the world?"

"That's right," she nodded.

"So when you were first activated – what, five years ago?  You knew what you were meant to do.  You knew what your purpose was.  From the moment you were switched on."

"More or less.  Of course, it's not like Mom ever gave me much of a choice."

"Yeah, but you save people and save the world.  You really can't do any better than that.  You never had to worry that you were making the wrong choice."  Drew had a stressed look on his face.  "I have absolutely _no_ idea what I want to do.  Especially _now_."

"Well, you're a robot like Jenny," said Brad.  "Maybe you could save people too."

"Please."  Drew rolled his eyes.  "Sure, I'm a _robot_.  Maybe it means I wind up on an assembly line in Detroit, painting cars.  Jenny was _meant_ to be a superhero.  I'm an _accident_.  I'm just lucky I didn't wind up in an underground government lab at Area 51, or something."  He laughed, and looked up at a street sign.  "Here we are.  Washington Boulevard.  And there's the office building."  An ordinary-looking, fifteen-story steel and glass building rose into the sky, with a large polished marble sign out front reading _Brown, Brown, Brown and Smith_.

Brad grabbed his camera again, trying to figure out the switches and buttons.  "Hey, Drew, go over and stand in front of the sign.  I'll take your picture.  'Robot Teen Takes Business World By Storm!'"

Drew sighed.  "Brad, these guys are probably accountants or insurance salesmen.  Yawn city.  You're not going to see anything here that's more exciting than a paper cut."

An alarm pierced the air with a shrill ring.

Jenny's pigtails perked up.  "That sounds like it's coming from right next door."

Curious, Drew wandered over to the storefront next to the office tower.  "I don't see anyth-"

The huge plate-glass window exploded outward with a deafening roar, showering him with razor-sharp shards.  The force of the blast flung Drew backwards into traffic and directly into the path of a city bus.  The driver slammed on the brakes, but he didn't have enough time.  With a moist _thud_, Drew splattered into a thick, silver-green paste on the bus's grill and windshield.

"Drew!" screamed Jenny.  It was a reflex - a human would never have survived a collision like that, and she still thought of Drew as sort of human.  But, of course, he wasn't.  The bus driver stared, stunned, as the silvery glob on his windshield pulled itself together.  A metallic head and neck formed, and an arm stretched out to wave _I'm okay.  Stunned, but okay_.

A large, dark figure lunged out of the window of the shop, landing on the sidewalk concrete with a crushing _thunk_.  It was a robot, over nine feet tall, with a lean build, painted pitch black with red trim.  Dim red lights glowed in its eye sockets, a thin antenna stretched from the top of its head, and it clutched a large metal box to its chest.  It quickly scanned the sidewalk and street, as people jumped back in fear, and cars screeched to a halt.

The black-and-red robot took notice of Jenny, and decided that she was a threat.  A pair of rocket motors deployed from the back of the robot's back, and blasted to life.  Jenny and Brad shielded their eyes as the cloud of exhaust washed over them, and the robot thief climbed into the sky.

"It's time for a little _career development_," Jenny grinned.  "Get your camera ready, Brad!"

Jenny's pigtails flamed to life, and she shot into the air in high-speed pursuit of the thief.  It might have thought that it could outrun her, but it was wrong.  Jenny was smaller and much faster than the black-and-red robot, and she caught up to it six hundred feet in the air.  It tried a couple of high-speed turns.  Didn't make a difference.  Jenny pulled into a loop and came down on top of the thief, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"All right, whoever you are, you're coming with me and you've giving back what you stole!"

But the thief had other ideas.  His right arm deployed a short, wide cannon, and spun around to point directly at Jenny.  Before she could react, it fired a blob of smooth, white foam directly at her, like a giant ball of shaving cream.  Within seconds, it started to expand and harden, and suddenly she was trapped in a solid cocoon of plastic.  The thief broke away while Jenny plummeted towards the ground, struggling to escape.  She was only seconds away from slamming into the sidewalk …

But she worked her pigtails free, and slowed herself to a stop with only three feet to spare.  Now she could focus on getting loose.  She flexed her arms in the plastic prison, and blasted a pair of holes in the cocoon from the inside with her palm lasers.  With one more burst of robot strength, she broke free, shattering the plastic into thousands of tiny pieces.

Now she was _ticked_.  Once more she rocketed into the sky, and closed in on the escaping black-and-red robot.  She didn't plan on giving it a chance to run away this time.  Her right elbow cracked open, and she deployed her laser limb.  For a shot this far off, her right eye telescoped outward, its sections clicking together to focus on her target, like a sniper.

"Turnabout is fair play," she smiled.  "Let's see how _you_ like skydiving."

Jenny squeezed the trigger on her laser, and a pair of pencil-thin blasts shot towards the black-and-red robot over a mile away – neatly slicing off his two rocket engines.  The robot flailed its arms and legs wildly, and started to fall towards the earth at over two hundred miles an hour.  It still clung tightly to the heavy metal box that it had stolen from the downtown store, though.  _It must be something awfully valuable to worry about it even now_, Jenny thought.

She thought about just letting the robot smash into the ground – _would serve him right for getting that foamy goo all over me_ – but that wasn't the way her mom had programmed her.  Twenty feet before it smashed into the rooftops, Jenny caught the red-and-black robot, and set it down gently … while grabbing the large metal box from his claws.

"Okay, what's the big idea?" she asked.  "I mean, it's stuff like this that gives robots a bad name."

The robot didn't say a word.  Instead, it just stood straight up.  Its eyes started to blink, slowly, then faster, and then the tip of its antenna shone with a bright red light.  A high-pitched scream started to come from its chest.

"Yikes, that can't be good."  Holding on tightly to the heavy metal box, Jenny jumped off the rooftop … a split-second before the black-and-red robot self-destructed with an air-shattering blast.  She landed gracefully on the sidewalk below, and looked over her shoulder at the fireball that mushroomed towards the clouds.  Bits of black metal, nuts, bolts, and springs fell from the sky.

Jenny flew back to the store, to the cheers of onlookers and the store employees themselves.  Brad clicked away with his camera as she drifted down gently with her anti-grav gyros, and handed the large metal box to a well-dressed woman standing in front of the store's front entrance.

"Thank you, thank you, young lady!" she gushed.  "We simply can't thank you enough!"

"It was no biggie," smiled Jenny.  "I've sort of made a _career_ out of stopping bad guys.  It's all in a day's work.  What did he steal, anyway?"

The woman turned a combination lock on the metal box, and for the first time, Jenny noticed the ornate label engraved on the box's lid – _Marquis Diamonds_. 

The lid popped open, and Jenny's eyes grew wide in delight.  The box was filled with diamonds – the most beautiful, sparkling, glistening blue and white diamonds she'd ever seen in her life.  The dazzling shine from the gems was almost blinding to the store manager herself.  Jenny couldn't pull her eyes from the glittering jewels.  "Oooooooh ….", she finally managed to say.  "They're so pretty!"

"They're lunar diamonds," boasted the store manager.  "Very rare.  Very beautiful.  And you just saved a box of lunar diamonds worth forty million dollars."

Brad almost choked when he heard the number.  He snapped a few pictures of the lunar diamonds and patted his best friend on the shoulder.  "What a great story this is going to make for my Career Week project!  Super teen robot saves forty million bucks in moon diamonds!  Woohoo!  You should get a reward, Jenny!"

"Why, that's an excellent idea," said the store manager.

It was a tempting thought, but – "No, that wouldn't be right.  That's not the reason I chased that crooked robot.  That's very kind of you to offer, ma'am, but I'm just happy you got your diamonds back."  She found herself staring again.  "Your shiny … sparkly … gorgeous diamonds."  Jenny managed to turn herself away from the alluring gems, and waved to the store employees.  "We'd better get home, guys.  Good-bye, everyone!"

Jenny and Brad walked over to check on Drew, who, by now, had gotten himself back into android form – but not without drawing a few horrified stares from passers-by.  Nobody was the worse for wear though, and now they had an exciting story to talk about as they made their way back to their homes in the suburbs.

While her employees got back to work, the store manager lingered at the front of the shattered display window of Marquis Diamonds, watching Jenny walk away.  "Oh, but you should be rewarded, young robot," she purred to herself.  "Mister Marquis will insist on it."

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Continued in Chapter Two

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Shameless plug time – I tend to doodle and sketch when I'm plotting a story, and I've started posting some of my MLaaTR stuff over at DeviantArt (under the same name, 'coyoteloon').  Hopefully it doesn't stink too much.  I might put some sketches up to accompany the story as it progresses.


	2. The Marquis of Tremorton

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Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Two – The Marquis of Tremorton

* * *

Brit relaxed at her desk, casually glancing at the story on page three of today's Tremorton Tribune, being careful not to smudge the perfection of her freshly painted fingernails.  "I say, Tiff, listen to this," she crooned.  "'Robot Foils Jewel Robbery'.  Oh, my, it sounds like a certain titanium tomboy has been slumming around downtown, spoiling for fights.  How dreadful.  Seems like a desperate cry for attention, if you ask me."

Tiff nodded, chuckling.  "Mmm-hmm.  Hey, maybe she watches too much television!  They say it causes aggressive behavior.  Jenny, you been watchin' those cop shows?  Or maybe late night wrestling?"

The cousins burst into laughter, which was the cue for the rest of the popular girls to join in.  Jenny cringed in her seat, trying to slide her metal frame behind her History textbook.  "B-but I had to stop that thief!  I mean – that's what I'm supposed to _do_."  _Cripes, how is it that they can make me feel like a freak even when I do something right?_

"What you're supposed to do?  Now see, that's not what I understand," grinned Brit.  "In fact, I believe what you're _supposed_ to do is change oil and flush radiators down at Spiffy Lube, isn't it?  Hmmm, all of those oily rags and grease guns – it must be a little like working out of your own bedroom.  Oh, how nice for you."

"Yeah, oil an' grease an' nuts an' bolts," added Tiff, "she probably thinks she's working in a restaurant."

Jenny just buried her face in her hands and groaned, as the girls laughed at her again.

"Oh, chin up Jenny, it's simply a little joke.  You stopped the bad, bad robber.  Bravo."  Brit softly clapped her hands with mock sincerity, then picked up the newspaper.  "No pictures, though.  Hmmm, probably for the best.  I imagine all that crime-fighting must leave a girl looking rather disheveled for the cameras.  But here's a lovely little photo at the bottom of the page.  Good heavens.  'Freak Terrifies Bus Passengers'."

Brit showed Tiff the photo – it was Drew, splattered on the windshield of the city bus that had hit him yesterday.  "Hoooo, nasty," laughed Tiff.  "Looks like a giant silver booger.  Oh, that's one for the yearbook."

The classroom roared with laughter.  Drew fumed, gave Brit and Tiff a little wave, and a nasty grin.  Then he shot an even nastier look at Brad.

"You took three dozen pictures yesterday," he growled, "and every single one of them was out of focus _except for that one_.  Thanks _ever_ so much."

Brad was fuming over his own copy of the newspaper.  "What are you talking about?  That's a great action shot.  But look at what they put below it!  'Photo taken by passer-by!'  _Passer-by_!  They didn't even print my name!  And they didn't use any of my quotes in the story about the robbery!  What a _rip-off_!"

Drew grit his teeth, and slumped in his chair.  "Shouldn't the bell be ringing right about now?  _Please?_"

"Yes, where is Miss Snodgrass?  She's been gone for ten minutes," wondered Brit.  "Well, as soon as school is over, Jenny can zip away to her grease monkey friends down at the garage, while Tiff and I head over to _our_ Career Week positions – working at the design studios of Jean-Phillipe International."

Every girl in the class, Jenny included, writhed in envy.  Brit and Tiff Krust had gotten jobs working in a glamorous fashion design studio.  Almost every girl had requested that Career Week assignment, but thanks to a little _donation_ from Brit's father, the Krusts had gotten the internships and, once again, secured their rightful places at the center of the universe.

Jenny sulked, and doodled on the inside cover of her textbook.  _As bad as I thought this was going to be, _she thought_, it's ten times worse.  And I'm going to have to listen to this every day this week.  Then I'm going to have to listen to Brit and Tiff do their report on their way-cool jobs working with supermodels, while I tell the class how I learned the difference between an air filter and an oil filter._  She frowned, and drew a cartoon of herself, high up on a hoist, with oil draining from her belly button.  _Just once, I'd like to have the girls jealous of me, instead of the Krusts.  Stupid Career Week._

Finally, the teacher returned to the classroom, waddling to the front of the class.  "Students, students, please!  Settle down!"  Miss Snodgrass caught her breath, and continued.  "Now, I'm sorry that I had to go to the office so suddenly, but I have a surprise for you.  We have a _very special_ visitor!"

The class had grown restless and eager for the end-of-school bell, but Miss Snodgrass seemed unusually excited.  "Now, we've heard from many local businesspeople over the past few days for our Career Week.  But today, we're going to meet one of the most famous businessmen in the country … maybe the world!"

"Oh please, good lady, you flatter me," spoke a voice from the doorway.  It was deep, and rich, with a hint of a European accent, possibly Spanish.  Miss Snodgrass blushed, and everybody turned to see who it was.

A tall, distinguished-looking man strolled into the classroom.  His strong face was framed by salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard, and his smile seemed contagious.  Despite the fact that he must have been in his late fifties, he was quite handsome – and judging from his appearance, quite wealthy as well.  He wore a tailored, silk-lapel suit, a silk ascot fixed with a large glistening diamond stickpin, and held a walking cane topped with an even _larger_ blue-white diamond.

"Good afternoon," he said, in that rich, rolling voice.  "My name is Maximillian Marquis."

Jenny was staring along with everyone else, but she could still hear a few gasps in the class – including Brit, who now had her hands clasped over her mouth.  "Th-that's Maximillian Marquis, one of the richest men in Tremorton!"

"Actually, young lady, as of last month, _the_ richest," he chuckled.  "My company's stock has been performing particularly well this year.  Oh, there are many divisions, with rather _uninteresting_ names.  But I imagine the company you have all heard of is my first and most famous – Marquis Diamonds."

He held his walking cane out for the class to see, and the diamond capstone dazzled brilliantly with blue-white sparkles.  Everybody _oohed_ and _ahhed_, as if they were watching a fireworks show.  Mr. Marquis laughed again – a hearty, joyous laugh.  "Yes, yes, I have been around diamonds all of my life, and yet I myself never fail to be inspired by their beauty.  They have always been a _passion_ of mine.  This diamond on my walking-stick, for instance.  It is a rather _unique_ specimen.  It was discovered many, many miles beneath the surface of the moon, and it is worth almost five million dollars."

A few whistles sounded from the students.  "You see," continued Marquis, "lunar diamonds are quite rare – quite beautiful.  And they are, indirectly, the reason I have come to visit your fine school today.  One of your classmates recently stopped a burglary, and saved several hundred of my finest lunar diamonds."  He gestured towards Jenny.  "Miss Wakeman, I wish to thank you for your heroism.  I owe you a great debt of gratitude."

Everyone stared at Jenny, but _now_, with a touch of awe.  Jenny suddenly felt a little flustered.  It was so unusual for anyone to go to the trouble of thanking her – and she still appreciated anyone who called her by her chosen name.  "Gee … you're welcome, umm, Mr. Marquis.  I was just doing my job."

"So charming, and yet so humble," he smiled.  A few of the girls giggled, and Marquis continued.  "And so altruistic.  I understand that you turned down a reward yesterday for the rescue of my diamonds.  That is most noble of you, Jennifer, but perhaps I can offer you a more practical reward that you will find satisfactory.  I understand that your class is having some sort of … 'Career Week'?"

"Umm … yes, that's right."

"Well, I was wondering if you might be interested in coming to work for me, at Marquis Diamonds, for the week."

_Gasp_.  Working with all of those beautiful, sparkling diamonds, like the ones she had seen yesterday … "Th-that sounds amazing!  Oh … but I already have an assignment."

"I have spoken with your teachers, and they assure me that it would be acceptable for you change assignments."

"W-wow … that's very generous of you, sir!" grinned Jenny.  "Wow, I can't _believe_ I'm going to work as a salesgirl in a fancy jewelry store!"

"Oh, please, Miss Wakeman, you are far too modest.  You see, I am having a little … _event_ … later in the week.  Actually, it's a rather large affair, held at my private estate, a little something I conduct every year."

Brit gasped again.  "That's the – the Marquis International Diamond Exposition!"

"Yes, precisely," he replied.  "So it would be an excellent opportunity for you to become involved in all of the preparation activities.  And if you are interested, you could participate in the show itself – perhaps as a model for some of my jewelers' creations?"

Now the eyes of every girl in the class sprang to the size of pie plates.  Brit and Tiff sat in a state of shock.  Jenny's head was swirling with giddiness.  "You want me?  To be a _model_?  I … I don't know what to say!"

Brit couldn't help herself – this was beyond belief.  "He … he wants Junkpile Jenny to model millions of dollars in diamond jewelry?!?"

Marquis shot a disapproving look at Brit, gently shaking his cane.  "Young lady, manners, _manners_!  We can only enjoy the brilliance of these diamonds thanks to the amazing technology that removes them from the most inhospitable of environments!  Thus, diamonds are a spectacular beauty, brought forth through technology … much like young Jennifer herself.  She is _singularly_ qualified to symbolize my little diamond show.  Of course, that is, if she's interested."

Jenny fought to keep her giggling under control.  "Am I _ever_!  I mean … yes, I'd like that very much, sir."

"Splendid, splendid!" he grinned.  And on perfect cue, the bell sounded to dismiss class.  "Ah, but now I see that the school day is over.  That means, Miss Wakeman, that you are now my employee, and it would be best that you report for your first day of work.  I am heading to my offices right now, and I would be _delighted_ if you would accompany me."

Jenny practically jumped out of her desk, and followed Maximillian Marquis into the hallway.  The rest of the girls in her class streamed out to follow them, amazed that somebody in their class – let alone Jenny – was going to work as a _model_.  Many of the guys followed along, too.  It simply wasn't every day that you could say a billionaire came to your school.  Brit, Tiff, and their popular posse hurried along in a state of disbelief, with Brad and Drew bringing up the rear, along with several of the teachers.

Old Raszinski himself held the front doors open, as Mr. Marquis strolled outside with Jenny.  "I realize that this is not as _rapid_ as your accustomed mode of travel, but it will afford us the opportunity to have a nice chat, yes?"

Jenny couldn't believe it.  Sitting in front of the school was a glistening black limousine, shining like an ebony pearl, at least forty feet long.  It was trimmed with gold, and its hood ornament was a dazzling lunar diamond.  "Wow, this is _so totally phat_ – I mean …"  She composed herself a bit.  "This is all very nice of you, Mr. Marquis!"  Jenny snuck a glance over her shoulder, at her classmates.  Everyone was staring at her, and the limo, and Mr. Marquis … and she could almost _feel_ the jealousy radiating from their faces.  _This is too fantastic._

Brad and Drew made their way to the front of the crowd, about twenty feet behind Marquis and Jenny.  "Wow," Drew whistled, admiring the limousine.  "It's good to be rich."

"Yeah, sure," mumbled Brad.  "I suppose it's okay."

"Let me get the door for you!" beamed Jenny, eager to help her new boss.

"Nonsense!  Call me old fashioned, but a lovely young lady such as yourself should have doors held for _her_."  Marquis raised his voice slightly.  "Rojack!"

The driver's door of the limousine opened, and suddenly a low _hummm_ filled the air.  An eight-foot tall figure stepped out of the limo, rocking it from side to side with his immense weight.  The driver was an imposing, barrel-chested robot, with a powerful build.  It was black and silver, with a pattern on its chest that suggested a double-M insignia.  It slowly strolled around to the door of the limo, and held it open for Marquis and Jenny.

"This is Rojack, my personal valet," explained Marquis.  "You see?  I am very comfortable around robots, and consider them to be among my most valued and trustworthy of employees.  Rojack is a robot of _many_ talents.  I would be quite lost without him!"

Jenny stared up into the robot's glowing red eyes.  "Wow – well, it's very nice to meet you, Rojack," she said.  The robot simply stared back at her silently.

"I must apologize for Rojack," chuckled Marquis.  "He is somewhat lacking in the social graces."  He gestured to the open door.  "After you, miss."

Jenny blushed with a sweet smile, climbed into the limousine, and waved to all of her classmates.  Maximillian Marquis followed, but stumbled a bit on the curb, and he dropped his diamond-tipped walking stick.  It clattered onto the asphalt, and rolled underneath the limo.

Rojack knelt down and tucked one arm underneath the limo's chassis.  With a smooth motion, _he lifted the limousine_ – the forty-foot limousine – a few feet off of the ground, and retrieved the cane.  Then he gently set the limo back down, light as a feather, and offered the cane back to his master.

"How _clumsy_ of me.  Thank you, Rojack.  You may drive us to the office, now."

Rojack nodded, closed the door, and slowly lumbered around the limo.  Just before he got in, he paused, and looked back towards the students.  His eyes narrowed, and the red glow intensified – just a bit – as if he were scanning them.  At least that's what it felt like to Brad.  In fact, he could swear that Rojack was staring directly at him and Drew … with a stare that could only be described as _menacing_.

The limo pulled away, and the crowd of students burst into talk and gossip, amazed at what had just happened.  Brit, Tiff, and the popular girls looked like they were in need of medical attention.  But Brad had a disturbed look on his face, and felt a little confused.  This was probably one of the best days of Jenny's life, and it was sure to send her popularity at school through the roof.  It might even make her famous.  And Brad could tell that Jenny was enjoying all of the attention and flattery that Mr. Marquis was giving her.  _I should be happy for Jenny_, he thought to himself, and frowned.  _Well, I should be._  But he wasn't, and he didn't know why.

* * *

Continued in Chapter Three

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Please review!  We authors have incredibly fragile egos and tissue-thin self-esteem!


	3. Treasures and Mysteries

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Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Three – Treasures and Mysteries

* * *

Jenny had never seen anything like the Marquis Jewelry flagship store, in the ritzy part of downtown.  The windows and shelves were filled with exotic, one-of-a-kind gems that glittered with every color she could imagine.  The jewels sparkled with such a fierce, dazzling light – it seemed as if staring would put her into a trance that she'd never want to wake up from.  The elite of Tremorton high society browsed the store, and if they even noticed Jenny it was only because she was walking next to one of the richest men in the world.

"Oooooh … I've never seen anything like this before!  What are those?  Look at those!  And those!"  Jenny was pointing to everything in sight.

"These mere baubles will not be going to my estate for the exposition.  The more interesting … the _larger_ specimens … are being prepared and cleaned, even as we speak.  Is that something you would be interested to see?"

"Would I ever!"  Jenny clasped her hands together.  "Are we going to see … some of the diamonds that I'm going to _model_ at the show?"  She managed not to giggle.  _Hee hee … 'model'!  I love saying that word!  Model model model!_

"Not today," answered Marquis.  Seeing her disappointment, he explained.  "Ah, you see Jennifer, my finest craftsmen will be working right up until the final moment to create the most exquisite, the most … _unique_ … jewelry for you.  To take a look now would spoil the surprise, no?"

"I suppose," she sighed, and followed him through a door in the back of the glamorous store.  As large as Marquis Diamonds' flagship store was, it was only on the first floor of a four-story building.  Jenny and Mr. Marquis took a quick, smooth elevator to the building's second floor.

There were long rows of workbenches, covered with specialized machinery whirring and grinding away.  Each workbench was covered with trays of sparkling rocks.  Some benches had human jewelers hunched over them, working on jewels with magnifying goggles.  Others had robot workers – and dozens of worker robots scurried about, carrying boxes and supplies from one workbench to another.  The whole room had a feel of well-ordered busyness to it.

"Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you felt comfortable around robots."

"Of course not.  Now, I want you to see something _wonderful_.  Follow me, Jennifer."

Maximillian Marquis and Jenny walked over to one of the workbenches and watched one of the most skilled, senior jewelers work on a rough, dirty chunk of rock.  Jenny could see flashes of light, but it certainly didn't seem like something that one of those fancy rich ladies would want hanging around their necks.

"All diamonds start off like this," explained Marquis.  "Their beauty lies buried beneath dead, dark rock, sealed away, hidden from the universe … they are saving their divine essence for he who is bold enough to free them from their tombs."  The jeweler's bench tools started to polish and grind the diamond, and a familiar blue-white color started to emerge.

Marquis stared at the diamond, and his voice slowly grew louder.  "Diamonds are one of the strongest substances known to exist … constant, _eternal_.  They will survive us, they will survive the planet, they will survive the death of the sun itself.  And yet such strength is coupled with such beauty.  Look at the radiance, at the fire dancing within, brought to life before our very eyes … a piece of perfection has been born … with a shining brilliance wrought forth as if from _the forge of the gods themselves_!"

Jenny stared at him with an arched eyebrow.  "Wow … you, uh, really like diamonds, don't you?"

He adjusted his ascot, and regained his charming demeanor.  "Forgive me, young lady.  My passions occasionally get the better of me."

Jenny heard a few heavy footsteps, and was suddenly aware of a tall, hulking figure directly behind her.  She turned and looked up, slightly startled, to see a glowering black-and-silver face staring down.

Mr. Marquis smiled.  "Ah, Rojack!  Splendid.  They are ready?"

The massive robot simply made a pointing gesture with a massive forearm.  Marquis and Jenny followed him to a different part of the workshop.  They came to a large table, sitting underneath several powerful-looking drills hanging from the ceiling.  Sitting on the table were six very large, rough, rock-encrusted diamonds, with a dull purple color.  Each diamond had to be at least the size of a _football_.  The jeweler sitting at the table looked very upset – and nervous, now that his billionaire boss was approaching him.

"What is it?" asked Marquis, concerned.  "There is a problem?"

The jeweler held one of the dull purple diamonds in his hands.  "We were hoping to get the cutting done today for these Jovian diamonds, Mr. Marquis.  But our most powerful laser drill has broken down, and none of the other drills are strong enough to do the job.  And we can't get a replacement delivered in time for the Diamond Expo this week."

Marquis shook his head, with sadness and anger.  "Blast!  These were to be the most spectacular display at the Exposition!"  He bowed to Jenny.  "I must apologize, Jennifer.  These are extremely rare Jovian diamonds, and they _were_ to have been part of the main display at the show.  The display which _was_ to have centered around _you_, in fact," he added casually.

_That_ got her attention.  "What do you mean, '_was_'?"

"Jovian diamonds are extremely rare and extremely tough," explained the jeweler.  "They can only be polished and carved with a high-power laser.  And ours just broke down."

Jenny looked over the laser drill hanging from the ceiling, and tapped her chin, thinking … "You know, I have a whole bunch of lasers.  I have one that's at least fifty times more powerful than this laser drill.  Maybe I could help."

The jeweler gave her a suspicious look.  "Power is fine, but the drill is extremely, extremely accurate.  You would need to make cuts accurate down to the _atom_."

"It's all right, Jennifer," said Marquis.  "We'll find something _else_ for you to do at the show …"

_Something else?!?  Hold on a second!_  "No, wait, I can do this!"  A door panel slid open on Jenny's back, and a five-foot laser barrel telescoped out and pivoted over her head, crackling with energy.  Lenses snapped into place to narrow and focus the beam.  She grabbed the rough diamond in both hands, to steady it.  "What shape do you need it cut into?"

The jeweler showed her a rotating, 3D model on a computer screen.  Her eyes extended outward into smaller and smaller sections, like a microscope, and then her laser flashed into to life.  A thin beam started quickly dancing around the rough diamond, cutting away bits of rock, shaping it.  The jeweler looked on, gnawing on his lower lip.  Maximillian Marquis watched with fascination.  Rojack watched too, with a hint of a smile on his face.

The laser stopped, and the jeweler gasped in awe.  On his desk now sat the most perfectly polished Jovian diamond he'd ever seen, sparkling violet, with flashes of white shining from its many facets.  Jenny grinned with the pride of a job well done, then went to work on the other five lumps of rock.  Ten minutes later, six identical, perfectly cut Jovian diamonds sat on the workbench.

"You are truly a wonder," laughed Mr. Marquis, grasping his walking-stick in both hands.  "Thank you, my young friend, thank you."

Jenny shrugged her shoulders and blushed.  "Aww … it was nothing.  I've carved up whole _asteroids_ with that laser before."

"Simply amazing."  He gestured to his towering robot assistant.  "I must tend to some business here for a time.  Rojack here will take you to the third floor, which features a far more _comfortable_ environment.  You are to begin your training for your _modeling debut_."

She cupped her hands over her mouth to stifle a squeal.  "Well, lead on then!"  She strutted away behind the black-and-silver giant, beaming with a mixture of delight and pride.

Once the elevator doors closed, Maximillian Marquis turned back to the workbench, and admired the six massive violet diamonds.  He picked one up and turned it over in his hands, then spoke to his jeweler.  "It is a perfect cut, yes?  Down to the atom?"

The jeweler grinned.  "We could _never_ have done it ourselves.  _Nobody_ else could have.  With pure Jovian diamonds like these, and such a precision-engineered cut … do you realize what you're going to be able to _do_ with these …"

"Ahh, ahh, ahh," interrupted Maximillian Marquis, grinning wickedly.  "That would spoil the surprise."

* * *

The offices of the Tremorton Tribune hummed with activity, and the writers in the newsroom worked with a fever pace to get ready for the next edition.  The clatter of keyboards filled the room, and a constant background of simultaneous telephone conversations made it difficult to hear yourself think.  Brad had to move fast to keep up with the pace that his mentors demanded of him.  He grabbed a pencil and a notepad, and rushed over to the assistant news desk to get his orders for the afternoon.

"All right, Brad, you're doing a great job so far," growled the assistant editor.  "You've learned the most important rule of journalism … everything starts with the facts, and you've got to get the facts straight!"

"Thanks chief," said Brad, madly jotting down notes.

"Don't call me chief.  Now let me hear what you've got."

Brad took a deep breath.  "That's five black coffees, two double cream, one skim milk, two sugars, one milk and sugar and one decaf."  His face, and his shoulders, sunk.  "Will that be everything?"

Somehow the assistant editor was managing to talk to Brad, the telephone, and proofread a story at the same time.  "Get me one of those cheese danishes if there's any left.  And buck up, son!  The Tremorton Tribune is an engine.  A high-powered engine, churning out the news!  And every engine needs fuel!  There are no small jobs at the Tribune, son!"

"But I was, y'know, kinda hoping to write an actual newspaper story, sir!"  Brad interrupted, as politely as possible.  "I mean, I'm not going to get much of a grade for Career Week by fetching coffee and sandwiches!"

"Sandwich!  That's a great idea.  Get me a roast beef on rye.  With that spicy mustard!"

Brad rolled his eyes.  "Yes, sir."

The assistant editor barked a few more instructions into another phone, then turned to Brad.  "Look, son, the jewelry theft was a nice bit.  Good police blotter stuff.  But it's yesterday's news, boy!  Robber steals jewels, robber runs away, robber gets caught, blah, blah, blah.  Where's the hook?  Where's the gimmick?  Where's the two-by-four to the back of the head?  News starts with the facts, but we're selling papers, Brad!  We need _stories_!  That's what those knuckle-dragging goombahs out there want to read.  They want _spectacular_!  They want _sensational_!"

Brad tapped his forehead with his pencil.  "You do realize that the robber was a robot, and it was caught by a _teenage_ robot?  That isn't _sensational_?"

"Not in this town," he growled back.  Two phones rang, and suddenly he was dealing with two other crises.  "The mayor got caught where?  With how many flight attendants?  Beautiful!"

Brad slumped out of the assistant editor's office, kicking a wad of paper on the floor down the hallway.  "How am I supposed to come up with a sensational story by the end of the week?" he groaned.  "Nothing ever happens at school.  And the assistant editor even thinks _Jenny_ is boring?"

That probably wasn't the whole story.  It seemed like the other news writers that Brad had talked to viewed the Career Week internship as a bit of a joke.  _Not to worry, we'll give you a great review at the end of the week.  Now go carry this stack of papers back down to Research!_  Brad had certainly learned one valuable lesson about the business world – there was no lower form of life than the intern.

One of the photojournalists saw the look on Brad's face, and called him over to his computer workstation.  "Don't let the old man get you down, kiddo.  Did he give you the 'spectacular-sensational' speech?"

Brad nodded, and the photographer chuckled.  "Look, Brad, all you gotta do is take your camera, go down to some retirement home, find an old geezer who's having their one-hundredth birthday, take their picture, write up a nice piece of sugary fluff about them, and bingo.  There's your project, and your easy 'A'."

"Yeah, I suppose," Brad sighed.  "Doesn't seem like much of a news story, though."

"Oh, and when you take their picture – don't cut off half their body."  He laughed, and tapped a few keys on his workstation.  "The pictures you took of the robbery yesterday are property of the Tribune, but, ah, we figured we'd make a copy of 'em so you'd have something for your school report.  Although, I have to warn you – they really stink!"  He pulled a disc out of his computer, and handed it to Brad.

"Okay, I know, I know.  I need to practice with the camera more," groaned Brad.

The photographer gestured to the giant monitor on his desk.  "Hey, when the software on this monster can't fix your picture, then you know it's _really_ bad!  Take a look at this one."  He tapped a button on the screen, and up came a fuzzy, blurry picture of a sidewalk and some parked cars in front of the Marquis Jewelry store.  There was a swab of light blue and white in the top of the picture.

"I'm guessing that this is your robot friend.  Or at least her legs."  He clicked a few more buttons, and the picture improved dramatically, although is was still hazy.  The sidewalk and the parked cars were now in near-perfect focus, and a pair of fuzzy robot legs hung in the middle of the photo.

Brad grinned, impressed by the computer.  "That is pretty sweet!  I guess I'll just have to make sure I stick to taking pictures of stuff that's standing still next time …"

Something in the picture caught Brad's eye.  "Hey, can you zoom in on this?"

"Sure thing, kiddo.  Zoom in on your friend?"

"No, the blue parked car.  On that front window of the blue parked car!"

A few mouse clicks later, the car window filled the computer monitor.  At this magnification, the image was a little grainy, but …

"Huh.  Something's reflecting in that window.  There's somebody standing on the roof of the jewelry building, just _watching_ the robbery."

The photographer was mildly interested, but Brad's eyes were _riveted_ to the screen.  He _recognized_ what he was looking at.  A tall, hulking metal figure, black with hints of silver trim.  It was holding some kind of remote controller in its hands, and on its chest was plainly visible a double-M design.

"Not somebody.  Some _robot_.  What did that billionaire dude call him?  _Rojack_."

* * *

Continued in Chapter Four

* * *

A/N:  Nice to hear from you Crimson L!  I misses ya when you don't review (pout).  You're half-right on the capitalization.  "Are" is a verb and should stay capitalized, but "a" shouldn't.  Well, that's why pencils have erasers!  As for your plot guesses … well, it just ain't that simple.  And Rojack is quiet, but is certainly not mindless … as a few of our heroes will find out fairly soon … (dum dum dummm)

And to everyone else who's left a review – thank ya thank ya thank ya!


	4. The Right Side of the Popularity Fence

* * *

Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Four – The Right Side of the Popularity Fence

* * *

Brad paid for his lunch, but he was too worked up to even think about eating.  He had to find Jenny and show her his discovery about her boss's supposedly _trusted_ robot.  Brad grabbed his tray and scanned the crowd in the cafeteria.  It wasn't exactly hard to find Jenny – just look for a table with one solitary metal teenager sitting at it.  And there it was – except this time the metal teenager _didn't_ have pigtails.

"Brad!" shouted Drew, looking up from a copy of the school paper.  "Come on over.  Plenty of good seats available."

Brad sat down across from him.  "Drew!  Hey, I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, I usually don't eat, but I decided to pack a lunch today."

"That's great, because I've got something …"  Brad paused for moment.  "Hey, how come you're going with the natural look today?  Gray and green stripes sort of sticks out in a crowd.  You were doing the camouflage thing pretty well – you looked just like your old self."

Drew gave Brad a sarcastic grin, and held up the school paper.  Page five sported a replica of the Drew-splattered-on-a-bus-windshield picture from the Tremorton Tribune.  The one that _Brad_ had taken.  "This picture is stuck on every bulletin board in school.  I don't think there's _really_ much point in the camouflage thing anymore.  Hey … there's a caption-writing contest.  My best so far is 'Dang, the mosquitoes are big this year!'  What do you think?"

"Not bad," said Brad.  "Mine was 'Gumby forgot to look both ways before crossing.'  Anyways, as I was saying … I've got something important to show you and Jenny.  Have you seen her around?"

"Nope.  She's usually here by now.  I thought you two shared Math in third period?"

"Yeah, we do, but …" Brad stopped again, as Drew lifted up a heavy plastic bag and dropped it on the table with a loud, rattling _clunk_.

"What the heck is _that_?!?"

"Like I said, it's my lunch," said Drew.  "I haven't eaten in a couple of days."  Drew reached into his "lunch bag", pulled out a handful of steel rivets, and started popping them in his mouth, like popcorn.

Brad's faced twisted into a bizarre expression.  "Umm … shouldn't you be _chewing_ those?"

"Nah, they just melt in my mouth," explained Drew, tossing in another rivet.  "_Literally_.  You know, nanobots, rearranging atoms, all that good nano-stuff."

"Whatever.  Anyway, I've got _big news_," grinned Brad.  "I've got a lead on a story for my Career Week project that's gonna blow _everyone_ away.  This is not only an A-plus, they'll probably give me one of them Pulitzer prizes, too.  When Jenny sees this, she's gonna freak!"

Jenny walked up just then, carrying a tray with her usual – lightweight motor oil.  "Hey there guys - when I see _what_, Brad?"

"Just the person I wanted to see," said Brad, smiling theatrically.  He pulled out a brown manila envelope and laid it on the table.  "If you'll have a seat?"

Jenny sat next to Drew with a quizzical expression, silently asking: _so what's the deal?_  Drew just shrugged.  Brad had been trying to talk to her all morning long, but she'd been having fun yakking with her new girlfriends almost nonstop.  "All right Brad," she chuckled, "you've finally got my undivided attention.  So what's with all the drama?"

"Ladies and gentlemen … I give you the Marquis Jewelry store bandit."  Brad pulled a photograph out of the envelope and flipped it over for everyone to see.

Jenny and Drew exchanged a glace, unimpressed.  "Uh, Brad," Jenny replied, "I _caught_ that guy.  About a minute after he robbed the store, remember?  Okay, _technically_, he blew himself up.  But I got the diamonds back.  End of story."  She laughed.  "You'll notice that I am _not_ freaking."

Brad folded his arms, smiling confidently.  "Then explain the photo.  Check the reflection in the window."

Drew was actually the first to notice.  "That sort of looks like that big robot that hangs around with your boss, Jenny.  You know – your _limo driver_," he chuckled.

Jenny tapped her chin, a little more interested now.  "Hmmm, it does sort of look like Rojack.  And it looks like he's watching me chase the robot bandit."

"And he is holding a remote control," announced Brad.  "I think we can all see where this is leading.  Maximillian Marquis, the richest man in Tremorton, was robbed by his very own personal robot assistant!  Rojack was controlling that black-and-red robot by remote control.  Betraying the trust of his employer to satisfy his own greed.  I _knew_ there was something rotten about that guy!  Remember the nasty look he gave us yesterday, Drew?  That was because he _recognized_ us from the crime scene!"

"Oh, come on, Brad!" groaned Jenny.  "Rojack isn't like that at all!  Sure, he's not exactly Mister Personality … actually, it kind of gives me the _heebie-jeebies_ just standing around him.  But he's completely loyal to Mr. Marquis!  He may be _creepy_, but he's not a thief."

"Completely loyal, huh?"  Brad rubbed his chin, thinking aloud.  "So then … maybe … Maximillian Marquis _ordered_ him to steal the diamonds!  Oh, wow, this is even bigger than I thought!  He steals his own diamonds, gets rich off of the insurance money, and laughs all the way to the bank.  I can see the headline now!  'Student Reporter Uncovers Maximillian Marquis in Insurance Fraud!'"

"All right, now you're just being crazy.  'Gets rich off of the insurance money?'  He's already a billionaire!  Look, I'll admit that looks like Rojack standing on the roof.  But that doesn't mean anything!  That thing he's holding could be anything.  It could be a … radio.  Maybe he was just listening to some music!  Robots _do_ listen to music, you know.  I listen to music.  Drew listens to music, right?"

"Yeah, but I probably don't count."  It was a little hard to understand him with his mouth full.  Drew was munching on a shard of _broken glass_.

Now Jenny and Brad were both giving Drew a perplexed look.  On the table in front of him sat more steel rivets, pieces of broken glass, copper tubing, a small bag of charcoal, and a dozen old computer circuit boards.  Drew picked up a circuit board, started eating it like it was a piece of pizza, and noticed them staring at him.

"_What?!?_" he protested, shrugging his shoulders.  "It's iron, silicon, copper, carbon … periodic table pot luck.  My nanobots use all of this stuff."

Jenny shook her head and continued.  "… Anyway, as I was saying, that picture doesn't _prove_ anything.  Rojack could have been up there for any _number_ of reasons."

"Maybe so," smiled Brad.  "In that case, you can ask him _yourself_ when you see him again tonight."

"Ohhhhhh, no," she said, wagging her finger at Brad.  "If you want to cook up some ridiculous story for your assignment, be my guest.  Go look for Bigfoot, or something.  But don't drag me into it!  And don't make up any goofy stories about Maximillian Marquis.  This job he gave me is the _best_ thing that's ever happened, and I don't want anything to mess it up before tomorrow night!"

"What's so special about tomorrow night?" asked Drew … as he sucked on a tube of _bathtub caulking_.

"It's the big Diamond Exposition up at Mr. Marquis' mansion," Jenny smiled.  "Everybody's going to be dressed up in fancy clothes, tuxedos and dresses.  People from all around the world will be there, eating fancy food and talking about fancy things.  And Mr. Marquis says that I'm going to be the star of the show."  She wriggled in her seat.  "Ohhh, I can't wait!  I've been getting my … _modeling_ training … and everybody there is being _so_ nice to me."

"Pfffft.  _Model_ training," huffed Brad.  "How hard can it be to just stand there?"

"I have to have _poise_ and _grace_," Jenny huffed right back.  "It's a lot more work than you think, but Mr. Marquis says that I'm a natural.  You know, it's going to be nice to forget about crime-fighting and saving the world for one night.  Everyone's going to be watching me, taking my picture with all those beautiful diamonds … you know, maybe this Career Week thing isn't so bad after all.  Who knows?  Maybe I'll become a world-famous model!"

"Uh-oh," Brad said to Drew.  "You know, if you watch really close, you can actually _see_ her head getting bigger."  Drew fought back a chuckle.

Jenny folded her arms across her chest, angrily.  "Big head, huh?  Sounds to me like you two are just _jealous_ of my great new career.  You're just fetching coffee for a bunch of newspaper hacks," she said, pointing at Brad.  "And you're just …  what in the world _are_ you doing?"

"I've been there two days, and I'm still not sure," Drew answered, rolling his eyes.  "It involves a lot of filing."

"That's what I thought.  Well then, you two can just _forget_ about being invited to Mr. Marquis' mansion.  He told me that I could bring a couple of friends."

"That's _just_ what we'd like to talk to you about," said a swooning British accent, "Jenny, old _pal!_"

Their isolated table of three suddenly started to crowd over, as a riot of girls formed around their table, giggling and talking and causing a commotion.  And they were being led by none other than Brit, Tiff, and the exclusive clique of popular girls, all wearing the friendliest faces you could imagine.  Soon the table was filled to overflowing, surrounded wih a ring of standing room only.  Jenny sat amazed, as the highest layer of the Tremorton High School social order circled around her like a drones around a queen bee.

Brad and Drew were nearly crushed themselves, not that either one of them minded that much.

"Hey there," Brad grinned to one of the cheerleaders.  All he got in response was an upturned nose and a _hmmmph_.

"Uhh … _hi_," Drew gulped nervously, as Jantrice squeezed in between him and Jenny.

She gave him a strange look.  "Are you … eating _garbage_?"

"No!"  Drew's face dulled to a paler shade of gray.  "Maybe."

"Never mind that," purred Brit, "we're all just _dying_ to hear about Jenny's _fascinating_ new job, aren't we girls?"  The crowd nodded their heads with a chorus of _you-bet_ and _uh-huh_.  "We're all so very thrilled for you, Jenny darling.  To think that one of our very own … _homegirls_ … is modeling for Maximillian Marquis, why, it's the most fantastic thing I've ever heard of!  You simply must tell us all about it."

"You said it!" Tiff chimed in.  "We wanna hear every last little detail.  Dish, girlfriend."

"R-really?" gasped Jenny, basking in the attention.  "You girls want to hear about my modeling job?"

"Tell us all about working with all those models," grinned Stephanie.

"Tell us all about being surrounded by those gorgeous _diamonds_," swooned Pteresa.

"For Pete's sake, what's the big deal about diamonds already?" said Drew, rolling his eyes.  "They're just really expensive rocks.  Chunks of carbon, like … like this charcoal."

Drew grabbed a piece of charcoal from his "lunch" and closed his fist around it.  A faint _hummm-schlorp_ sound filled the air, and Drew's hand shimmered silver-green.  A few seconds later, Drew opened his fist, revealing a sparkling, milky white diamond.

Everyone at the table was stunned, and Jantrice grabbed the diamond out of Drew's hand.  "Wow!" she squealed with delight.  "It's really a diamond!  Look at it sparkle!"

Drew drummed his fingers on the table nervously.  "Ah … you might want to give that back …"

But now the girls were mooning over the diamond, _ooohing_ and _ahhing_.  "Can I keep it?"  "Make another one!"  "Make one for me!"

Drew grew more nervous.  "No, I _can't_.  Ummm – you see –"

Suddenly the diamond shuddered slightly, and with a soft yellow flash, _poof_, it disintegrated into a fine gray ash.  Several girls got ash all over their hands, faces, and trendy clothes, and as quickly as they had warmed to Drew, the girls were now furious with him – Jenny included.

"That wasn't a very funny joke!" growled Jenny.

"B-but it wasn't a joke!  I didn't do that on purpose!  I was just showing you, carbon is carbon.  Look, if I could turn charcoal into diamonds _permanently_, do you think I'd still be going to school?"

"Never mind _Android_, Jenny dear, he's had his little _fun_," cooed Brit.  Now she was practically fawning over Jenny.  "Now tell us about the real diamonds.  You know, the ones that'll be at the big show tomorrow night.  I imagine they must so very beautiful.  I certainly wish that I could go _see_ them …"

Connie couldn't contain herself any longer.  "Jenny, take me to the diamond show, and I'll give you my new purse!"

"Take me, and I'll do your homework for a month!" shouted Pteresa.

"She's a robot," growled Brit, "it takes her _ten seconds_ to do her homework.  Take me, Jenny, and I will _personally_ guarantee that you will be popular for the rest of the school year."

Brad finally flung his arms into the air.  "For crying out loud!  Jenny, these are the same girls who treat you like dirt all week long.  As soon as your big modeling gig is over tomorrow night, they'll throw you away like an old soda can!  Can't you see that?!?"

Jenny crossed her arms and glared at Brad.  "So I'm an 'old soda can' now, am I?"

Brad slapped his forehead.  "That's _not_ what I said!"

"Look, you two are wasting valuable real estate here!" grumbled Stephanie.  Arms shot out of the crowd of girls, grabbed Brad and Drew by the shoulders, and pulled them out of their seats.  The ladies were _very serious_ about a chance at a scarce invitation to a billionaire's ball.  Brad landed on the floor ten feet away, with his 'Rojack' photograph in his hands.  Drew clanked down next to him, with the rest of his "lunch bag" tossed at his feet.

"Girls, girls," smiled Jenny, motioning for her new crowd of admirers to calm down.  "There's no need for that sort of thing.  We're all civilized here.  Now, I'm very flattered by all the attention, and I wish I could take all of you to the diamond show tomorrow night!"  A sly smile started to grow on her face.  "But, of course, I can only take two.  I honestly just don't know _how_ I'm going to decide."

There was a few seconds' silence, and then … "I'll give you my new CD player!"

"I'll carry your backpack for you!"

"I'll invite you to my next house party!"

As the noise grew, Brad and Drew slowly shook their heads, looked over their shoulders at the bidding war, then looked at each other.

"Uhhh … what just happened here?" asked Drew.

"Something is rotten in the state of Tremorton," grumbled Brad, "and I intend to find out what it is.  Jenny said that I didn't have any proof that Maximillian Marquis is up to some monkey business.  Well, I'm not giving up just yet!  We're going to get some proof.  The motto of the Tremorton Tribune is, 'Nothing must stop the pursuit of the truth!'  We're going to pursue that truth tonight after work.  Yessirree, tonight, Drew, you and I are going to return to the scene of the crime!"

"_We!?!_  What do you mean, _we_?  What the heck are we supposed to do there?"

"We're gonna snoop around the roof of Marquis Diamonds, and look for clues."

"_Clues_?" sneered Drew.  "You wanna get together with Scooby and Shaggy, and ride over in the Mystery Machine?"

"I've got something better than that." Brad smiled, and put his arm on Drew's shoulder.  "I've got my good, good friend and his freaky robot abilities."

"Oh, that's just pathetic," Drew said, rolling his eyes.  "Jenny might be able to get away with a line like that, but what makes you think I want to sneak around on a rooftop with you after work tonight?"

"Because we're friends.  And because if you don't, I'll go by myself, and you'll worry about me getting into trouble and embarrassing Jenny.  And because you're bored out of your mind at your Career Week job, filing stuff all afternoon.  And because you've got nothing better to do."

Drew thought for a moment, and sighed.  "Man, you're good at this."

Brad grinned.  "Where do you think Tuck gets it from?"

* * *

Continued in Chapter Five

* * *

A/N:  The story has been a little slow so far, but things pick up in the next chapter.  Trust me!


	5. Unraveling the Tapestry

* * *

Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Five – Unraveling the Tapestry

* * *

The light was dimming in the overcast evening hours, and a faint breeze was picking up, scattering scraps of paper across the concrete roof of the Marquis Diamonds building.  Far above the streetlights, the rooftop was blanketed in dark gray shadows.  All was silent, except for a few muffled grunts coming from the direction of the alleyway.  Then with a soft _clank_, first one, then two silver-green claws flung themselves over the wall, and morphed into sturdy clamps.

"Finally," Drew said, relieved to be finished with the four-story climb.  Not that it had been especially tiring or difficult, but it was the first time he'd ever tried something like that with someone hanging onto his _back_.

"This would've been a lot easier if you had just _flown_ up," grumbled Brad, clinging on tightly.

They spilled over the ledge, and landed ungracefully on the rooftop.  "I've told you a dozen times, _I can't fly_," hissed Drew.  "How hard is it to remember that?"

"Couldn't you just _eat_ a rocket engine or something?"

"Let's get our butts moving and get out of here – or my next newspaper photo is going to get taken down at the _police station_."

"Just _relax_ … nothing's going to happen."  Brad chuckled, as he got to his feet and dusted himself off.  He was _totally_ into the whole sneaking-around thing, and he'd dressed for the part in a black sweatshirt and dark jacket.  He took off his backpack and checked the contents.  "Camera looks okay.  Flashlight for each of us.  And plastic bags to collect the _evidence_."

Drew grabbed a flashlight and rolled his eyes.  "_Evidence_.  Oy vey.  Let's get this over with."

They started walking slowly around the roof, focusing on the ledge overlooking the sidewalk, where Rojack had been standing in the photograph.  Brad skulked around enthusiastically, sweeping his flashlight from side to side, humming the theme from _Mission Impossible_.  But all they could see was cracked, weathered concrete, blowing litter, a few antennas and satellite dishes, and the occasional pigeon.

"Well, maybe you can deduce something from this candy bar wrapper," said Drew, "but I am officially clueless.  I'm not sure what you were expecting to find up here."

Brad was snapping pictures with his camera as he spoke in a melodramatic voice.  "There's always something lying around that does in the overconfident criminal.  All we have to do is find it.  One tug at a loose thread, and the whole tapestry of deceit comes unraveled!"

"_Tapestry of deceit?_  Sheesh.  We're wasting our time, Brad."

"Come on, we haven't even started looking around yet.  Put those robot peepers to good use!"

"Okay.  Oooooh, look, I'm zooming in on the roof now!"  Drew's eyes _hummed_ and telescoped a few inches out of his head.  He waved his hands in the air.  "Ooooh!  Really tiny rocks!  Really tiny bugs!  _Yechhh_, cockroach droppings."

"Come on, will you be serious for a minute?" groaned Brad.  "If we can find out why Rojack stole the diamonds, with Jenny _right in front_ of him, then … hey, do you hear that?  That sounds like … _voices_."

Drew _schlorped_ his eyes back to normal.  "There's nobody else on the roof but us."

"Shhhh!"  Brad cupped his hand to his ear, then swung his flashlight around, searching.  There was a narrow ventilation duct poking out of the roof a few yards away.  He walked over quietly, knelt down, and put his ear closer to the duct.  The voice was very distorted, and sounded tinny, but … "That sounds like the billionaire dude's voice.  I recognize that fancy accent of his."

"I thought your little brother was the one with the overactive imagination."  Drew snuck over, more than a little skeptical.  Suddenly they heard a female voice, and their eyes lit up with recognition at the same time.  "Hey, that's _Jenny_!"

Brad had his ear pressed against the metal of the shaft now.  "She must be working late on her _model training_," he mocked.  "Man, I sure wish I could make out what they're saying!"

"So much for unraveling the _tapestry of deceit_," said Drew, a little uneasy.  "We can't spy on Jenny.  Sure, she kicked us to the curb today, but she's still our friend.  It's just plain wrong and I won't do it."

"She must be getting her last session of training with all her new _model_ friends.  Hmmm … all those supermodels, prancing around in their dressing room …"

A big, dumb grin spread on Drew's face.  "Wow, you're evil.  Okay, get your camera ready.  I got an idea."

Brad had to smile to himself – _all too easy!_  Drew might be a robot now, but he was still a _guy_.  As he tried to check the settings on his camera, he did a double-take as Drew's eyes _stretched out of his face_ – connected by thin stalks, like a snail.  The eyes stretched down to the narrow ventilation shaft – it was only six inches across – slipped inside, and started stretching down towards the source of the voices.

"Do you have any idea how freaky that looks?" Brad asked.

"Do you have any idea how freaky this _feels_?" Drew answered.  "Okay, do you have that little cable that comes with the camera?  Plug it into the back of my head."

"Now there's a sentence you just don't hear everyday."  Brad hooked one end of the cable up to the camera, and plugged the other end into a socket that formed on the back of Drew's head.  The view-finder on the back of the camera came to life, and Brad was now seeing everything that Drew's eyes were seeing, deep inside the workings of the ventilation system.

"This is so insanely cool!" Brad grinned, watching the small, disorienting picture as the shaft tunnels weaved left and right.  "Picture's a little dark, though.  Okay, ahead … ahead … turn left …"

"No backseat drivers," Drew mumbled.  "Let me concentrate, and I think I can get some sound back to you, too.  Wait, hang on.  I think I'm almost there."

With another soft _schlorrrp_, a patch on the back of Drew's head turned into a small, solid-state speaker.  There was a soft hissing _pop_, and Brad heard several voices … but those voices were being drowned out by a high-pitched, hissing sound.

"What is that _noise_?" Brad wondered aloud.

"Just a second …" With one last right turn, Drew's eyes stretched through a ventilation grate, and came out in the vast interior of a large machine workshop.  "Nuts, no supermodels here."  He looked around briefly, and … "What the heck is she doing?!?"

There was Jenny, standing a few feet away from a six-sided slab of quartz that stood over ten feet high, blasting at the surface with her palm lasers.  She was looking through some kind of optical scope deployed from the top of her head, and she seemed to be concentrating very, very hard.  Maximillian Marquis and Rojack were standing a few feet behind her with a few other workers, all looking very contented.  There were five other, identical, six-sided quartz slabs to the side of the work area, each one of them a perfect glimmering mirror.

Brad stared into his viewfinder, stunned and confused.  "Well, Jenny was right about one thing," he said.  "Model training is a _lot harder_ than I thought it was."  _Jen, what in the world are you doing?!?_

* * *

Jenny's palm lasers finally came to a stop, and she shook her hands a bit to cool them off.  "There we go – that's the last of them!  Six perfectly flat mirrors, down to the atom.  Whew!  That's hot work."

Maximillian Marquis strutted over and patted her on the shoulder.  "Sensational, Jennifer!  Simply sensational.  Once again, you have come to my rescue.  That our only quartz grinder should break down the day before the exhibition – I am most embarrassed."

"No problem at all.  Although I have to admit I'm still a little confused," she said, walking up to examine her reflection in the giant ten-foot hexagon.  "Why did you need mirrors made out of this stuff?  And why did they have to be _perfectly_ flat?  Wouldn't it be easier just to use _normal_ mirrors?"

"Ah, er … well, yes perhaps, but then again _nothing_ about tomorrow night will be normal.  I insist on having the finest of everything.  My centerpiece exhibit will feature the Jovian diamonds and these giant quartz mirrors because they are without equal, anywhere else in the world.  People expect the _exceptional_ from Maximillian Marquis.  And tomorrow night, I will deliver!  Exceptional jewels, and an exceptional young lady."

Jenny giggled, then grew a bit more serious.  "Thank you … but I was wondering if I could ask for … a little favor?  Could I invite some more friends to the show tomorrow night?  I already gave the two extra invitations to a pair of girls at school.  But I have a couple of other friends that I'd really like to be there.  Even if they are sort of being jerks right now …"

"Sadly impossible," replied Marquis.  Jenny pouted a bit, a little sad.  _It would have been nice for Brad and Drew to be there to see my big night – although this wouldn't have been a problem if they hadn't made fun of me at lunch today.  Arghhh – boys!_

"I am very sorry, Jennifer.  Perhaps _this_ can make up for it.  I have a surprise for you.  Something for you to wear for tomorrow night."

Jenny's face brightened.  "A surprise for _me_?  What is it?  _Where_ is it?"

"It is waiting for you upstairs, in the same room that you used for your training sessions with the other models.  Go, now!" he chuckled, with a grandfatherly laugh.  "Hurry!"

"Thank you!"  Jenny practically bounced out of the work area, and ran for the elevators with giddy excitement.  The doors slid closed.

"Finally," breathed Marquis.  "That took longer than expected, but the results speak for themselves.  We now have, perhaps, the six most _perfect_ mirrors ever to have existed.  Impressive, are they not, Rojack?"

Rojack gave a quick glance at his large frame in the mirror, then tilted his head silently towards his master, with a mildly concerned look on his face.

Marquis nodded in agreement.  "You are right, she is starting to ask too many questions, and she is most _frustrating_ to work with.  But without her talents, we could never have completed the mirrors - and that _foolish_ robot girl is too enamored with her silly dreams to see the reality around her."

He turned to the center of the room, where there were still a dozen of his men and robots working feverishly.  Marquis walked over to the foreman.

"Will everything be ready for tomorrow night?" he asked.

"The _Moonsword_ is in fantastic shape, Mr. Marquis.  They're just putting the final touches on it tonight.  We'll have the mirrors shipped over to her as soon as they're cooled off enough to transport."

"I trust I do not need to remind you to take _extraordinary_ care of them," said Marquis, with a tone that carried an implied _or else_.  "And the Jovian diamonds?"

"Installed and ready to go.  They passed the energy stress test with flying colors.  No anomalies in the beam at all.  Boss, this thing is going to have _twice_ the power you need to get the job done," the foreman laughed.

"More is _always_ better," grinned Marquis.  "What of the necklace?"

"Take a look for yourself, sir."  The two men, followed by Rojack, walked over to one of the work tables, where a jeweler was putting the final touches on an amazingly beautiful choker necklace, studded with dozens of blue-white lunar diamonds.  He had removed the large, center diamond – and he was holding an intricate _microchip_ in a pair of tweezers for his boss to see.

"Has it been set to the same frequency as the XJ-9's electronic brain?" asked Marquis.

The jeweler smiled.  "Took the readings while she was being fitted for it.  She doesn't suspect a thing."

"Excellent, excellent," murmured Maximillian Marquis.  There was a tray of loose moon-diamonds on the workbench.  He ran his fingers through the gems, savoring their color and texture.  "How very fitting that she wear _lunar_ diamonds tomorrow night.  They are my very favorite of all fine stones.  And thanks to that silly robot, soon I will have more than any king, or sultan, or emperor in history.  After tomorrow night, I shall rebuild my _mansion_ out of moon-diamonds!" he laughed.

He was interrupted by a soft beeping from a light on Rojack's black and silver chest.

The double-M insignia flipped open, revealing a small television screen.  On it was a picture from a security camera on the roof of the building.  Even with night vision lenses, the picture was a little fuzzy – but it was plainly a young man, perhaps a teenager even, next to a strange silver android of some sort.  And they had a camera.

Marquis frowned intensely.  "_Deal_ with them," he growled.

Rojack smiled, nodded, and walked out of the room.

* * *

Brad was still clicking away with his camera, nearly dumbfounded from what he'd just seen and heard.  "I don't believe this!" he said, struggling to keep from shouting.  "The whole thing's a set-up!  He doesn't like Jenny at all, the big faker!  He's got her making – _giant mirrors_?  What's up with that?  And what's the deal with that necklace and the microchip?  Jenny could be in real danger!"

Drew shifted back and forth on his feet, even while his eye-stalks still stretched down into the ventilation shaft.  "Okay, okay, you've _almost_ got me convinced.  This guy is starting to creep me out a little.  I don't know much about jewelry, but those guys don't sound like they're talking about earrings and bracelets.  What the heck is a 'Moonsword' anyway?"

"Keep looking around," said Brad, growing a little angry.  "We've got to find out if this guy is really going to hurt Jenny.  I _knew_ that guy was no good!  That sneaky miserable old coot …  And Jenny!  She's all 'Mr. Marquis this' and 'Mr. Marquis that' and 'Tee hee, giggle giggle!'  She always was a sucker for a charming face.  Lousy rotten fancy-talker … we've got to warn her!"

"Focus, dude, and then let's get out of here," whispered Drew, nervously.

Brad gathered himself and looked in the viewfinder.  "Okay.  Boy, this is going to be one bad mamma-jamma of a Career Week project.  Hey, check out that huge wooden crate over in the corner.  Can you see what's inside?"

The picture shifted and zoomed slightly.  "I think it's empty.  But it's about the same size as those giant mirrors.  Maybe it's a packing crate?"

Brad squinted into the viewfinder.  "There's lettering on the side.  Can you read it?"

Drew focused for a second … "It says … 'Marquis _Aerospace'_?  Does that even make _sense_?"

"Well … he _said_ that he owned all kinds of companies, not just jewelry and diamonds.  He probably owns an aerospace company too.  I'll snap one more picture and we'll figure it out later …"

They were concentrating so much on the camera that neither of them even heard the whistling sound rush towards them through the night air.  Brad just had time to notice a high-pitched, whistling shriek, when the metallic blades whizzed by his face, inches from his ear.  They sliced neatly through Drew's eye-stalks, without even slowing down, and _whined_ off to one side.

Drew stumbled backwards, suddenly blind, with two silver stubs wiggling from his eye sockets.  "_Whoa!!!  _Who turned out the lights?!?"

Brad wheeled around, almost scared out of his wits.  He'd just come inches away from nearly getting his head cut off by … _by what!?!_

A large, silver-and-black forearm shot up, and plucked the spinning blades from the air with ease.  Maximillian Marquis' personal "assistant", Rojack, stood perhaps fifty feet away, his eight-foot frame looming menacingly in the shadows.  His weapon was a three-bladed boomerang – high-strength steel with, naturally, _diamond_ tips, making it _extremely_ dangerous.  And Rojack was _very_ skilled with it.  He glared at Brad and Drew, with menace in his glowing red eyes, and a confident, cocky smile on his face.

Deftly tossing the boomerang in his hand, he grabbed it by one blade, took aim, and hurled it again.  Brad watched, mesmerized, as the shrieking metal blades flew through the night, directly towards his head.

* * *

Continued in Chapter Six

* * *


	6. The Queen of Denial

* * *

Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Six – The Queen of Denial

* * *

There was one good thing about being terrified – it pumped a body full of adrenaline, and Brad was using all of his right now.  He lunged wildly to his right, rolling onto the concrete and bowling into Drew's legs, sending him crashing onto his back.  The diamond-tipped boomerang sailed over his head with a _thwang_, and sliced through an air conditioning unit, filling the night with a shower of electrical sparks.

"What is your _problem,_ pal?!?" shouted Brad.  "You almost took my head off!  Twice!"

Drew blinked a couple of times, as a new pair of eyes formed from the ample supply of nanobots in his body.  "What the heck is going _on_ out there … _yeep_."

Rojack reached up to catch his boomerang again, which folded and stowed away in his right hand.  Then he silently walked towards Brad and Drew with a confident, lumbering stride.  He looked down at the two trespassers, letting his intimidating presence do the talking for him.

Brad just stared back at him, then gathered some nerve and stuck out his chest.  "Oh, I'll just _bet_ you'd like for us to run off scared.  After all, you've got something to hide here, don't you?  You and your money-bags boss?  Well, I work for the Tremorton Tribune.  Um … sort of … well, for the rest of this week, anyway!  And I've got a few questions for you, _tough guy_."

Rojack smiled, and looked at the camera that Brad was still clutching onto.  He gestured with a massive hand – _give it to me_.

"My _camera_?!  No way, it belongs to the newspaper!  I'll get in trouble!"

The eight-foot robot reached out to grab the camera, but Drew stepped forward to block him.  "Look, Ro-jerk, knock off the robot gangster act.  He said you can't have the camera ..."

Rojack's left arm grabbed Drew around the neck, and lifted him six feet into the air.  His hand briefly glowed yellowish-white, then a massive electrical surge shot through Drew's entire body.  His arms and legs flailed wildly, until he finally lost solid form and flowed out of Rojack's grip, sloshing into a pile of silver sludge.  It bubbled for a few seconds, and then a blob flowed up, oozing into the shape of Drew's head.

His eyes were still spinning around in their sockets.  "Like I was saying … he'd be _more_ than happy to give you the camera."

Brad gripped it tightly in his hands, then grinned with an idea.  "Okay, okay.  You win, Rojack.  Please don't hurt us.  Here, the camera's all yours."  He held up the camera …

And set off the flash on rapid-fire at its highest setting.  Rojack shielded his eyes, dazzled and distracted.  Brad grabbed Drew by his still-reforming shoulders and shook him.  "Let's get our butts _out of here_!"

They took off in a sprint, back towards the alleyway.  It was forty feet back down to street level.  They looked back to see Rojack barreling towards them at a full charge.  "No time for climbing," said Drew.  "We gotta take the express elevator."  He wrapped his arms around Brad's chest from behind, and _jumped off of the ledge_.

Before he could even shout in protest, Brad felt himself rushing towards the ground face-first.  Drew's supple legs formed extra joints, and his feet turned into long claws.  He dug his claw-feet into the brick wall, filling the air with dust and grit, but also slowing their falling speed.  Carving two huge grooves in the wall, they came to a stop a few inches from the ground.

Drew set Brad down, and pulled his legs out of the wall, flowing them back to normal.  "Hey, after this is over," laughed Brad, "I want to do that again!"

They both jumped as the whole alley shuddered violently.  Rojack had jumped down from the roof, landing with crushing force on the pavement.  The robot brute stood up, unfazed by the fall, and deployed the boomerang from his right arm …

"Run, Forrest, run!" shouted Drew.  They were still in the narrow alleyway, which was a little too confining for comfort.  They made it around the corner just as a shrieking whine whistled past them.  Brad could swear he felt the diamond tips nipping at the lapels of his jacket.  The boomerang sailed past them and sliced through a streetlight post, toppling it to the sidewalk with a metallic crash.

Drew glanced back to see Rojack roar around the corner, gaining on them with surprising speed.  He looked around frantically, desperate for ideas.  He got one as he noticed a delivery truck speed past them.

"What do you say we hitch a ride?!?" he shouted to Brad.  They ran into the street and jumped onto the back of the delivery van.  Brad got his footing and held on with one hand, while protecting the camera in the other.  Drew _slushed_ himself onto the top of the van, and pulled Brad up after him.

Brad held the camera in his hand like a trophy, and waved, laughing.  Rojack was still running down the sidewalk after them, but rapidly falling behind.  "Buh-bye, Ro-joke!  Go soak your head in a bucket of oil!  Your boss is going to turn you into a Coke machine!  You pile of rusty …"

Rojack took a pair of long strides, then planted his feet and propelled himself into the air.  Brad and Drew stared, amazed, as Rojack jumped over a hundred feet, sailing directly towards them.  He was about to land right on top of the delivery van.  Rojack grinned down at them viciously …

Drew flattened his body out, and flowed into a smooth layer on top of the delivery van's roof.  Rojack crashed down on the slick, silvery-green surface … and kept on going.  There was zero friction, like a super non-stick coating.  An eighteen-wheeler was speeding towards them in the oncoming lane.  The black-and-silver robot slid off of the roof of the delivery van and fell directly into the path of the big rig.  With a horrific crash, twenty tons of truck slammed into Rojack, then rumbled over his body, as it rolled and clattered down the street.

Drew's head popped back up, and his body started to re-form.  "Now _that's_ gotta hurt," he smiled to Brad.

"Yes!  We did it!" Brad shouted into the wind, as the truck sped along.  "And best of all, I've got everything on film, right in this little baby."  He patted the camera, which was filled with all of the photos he'd taken of Marquis' workshop, and the weird stuff inside of it …

And the camera split neatly into two halves, sliced right down the middle.

Brad and Drew shared a shocked expression for a few seconds.  Then Brad just screamed in disgust and frustration.  The boomerang hadn't missed its target after all.

* * *

More than a mile behind them, a horrified driver climbed down from the cab of his diesel truck.  Smoke and steam poured from an gash in the grill, and oil was leaking onto the road.  The trucker ran back to see what he had run over …

He was stunned to see the massive black and silver, barrel-chested robot sit up, get to its feet, and gather its bearings.  Rojack regained his composure, and brushed some dust off of his double-M insignia.  He looked down the road, in the direction that the teenagers had escaped, with a cold, nasty stare.  Then he silently stepped around the astounded truck driver, walked past his ruined vehicle, and calmly headed back towards the Marquis Diamonds building.

* * *

Brad nervously paced back and forth in front of his locker.  Normally, he and Jenny shared first period geometry, but she hadn't been to class this morning.  That wasn't completely unusual for Jenny, and she might have been off fighting aliens, or stopping a natural disaster.  But after what he'd seen last night, Brad was starting to get a little worried for his best friend.  Maximillian Marquis was not the charming patron that he pretended to be.  Jenny might be in real danger, from someone she trusted.  Maybe something bad had already happened.

"Okay, Brad, calm down," said Drew, who didn't look all that calm himself.  "I asked around a little and nobody's seen her yet today.  But come on, Jenny can take care of herself, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," sighed Brad, "but she's been acting a little goofy ever since this whole modeling thing started.  I don't think she's thinking straight.  By the way, did you have any luck in the library?"

Drew shook his head.  "Couldn't find anything on _Moonsword_ that made any sense.  It sounds like something from one of those goofy dungeons-and-dragons games.  We should find ourselves a nerd and see if he knows what it means."

"Speaking of nerds," smiled Brad, watching a clumsy figure make his way down the hallway.  Sheldon was walking towards them, with an eager look on his face, clutching a dozen roses.  Brad laughed to himself … poor Sheldon just didn't give up.

"Hey guys," he panted, "have either of you seen Jenny?  She wasn't in second period, and nobody knows where she is.  I wanted to give her a good-luck bouquet for her big debut."

"We were just wondering the same thing, Sheldon," answered Brad.  "Nobody's seen her since she went to work last night."  He didn't say, _since we were spying on her last night_.

"We probably won't see much of her after _tonight_, either," he sighed, almost mournfully.  "I suppose I should have realized that a beauty like hers was too great to be confined to one tiny little town like Tremorton.  She belongs to the world now, gentlemen.  We should count ourselves lucky to have caught a glimpse of the beginning of her epic journey to stardom."

Brad and Drew just rolled their eyes at each other.

Just then, the double doors at the end of hall swung open, and Brad had to shield his eyes from a bright, dazzling light.  Drew couldn't believe his eyes.  Sheldon just stared, with his jaw hanging down around his navel.

Jenny strolled elegantly down the hallway towards them, with flashes and twinkles of light shining from nearly every part of her body.  Her normal teal color had been painted over with an icy, sparkling bluish white that seemed to be mixed with thousands of tiny glimmering crystals.  Her arms and face were glistening with a frosty glaze.  She looked like a walking jewel, covered with an cloak of dazzling sparkles that nearly overwhelmed the senses.  She wasn't glowing … she was _shining_.

And she was trailing a huge crowd of astonished admirers, amazed at her transformation from clumsy teenager into school celebrity.  She smiled to herself, pretending not to notice the effect she was having on her fellow students – but she knew, and she was enjoying it _immensely_.

The boys stared, dumbstruck, as Jenny approached them.  She spoke with a casual, almost flippant tone as students crowded around her.  "Hello.  Yes, hello there.  No touching, please.  Hello, darling.  Ah … Bradley, Andrew, Sheldon … always nice to see you."

Brad arched an eyebrow, trying to make sense of things.  "Ahhhh … hey there, Jenny.  What's with …"

"Ah, ah, ah," she said, wagging a finger.  "_Jennifère_, please.  'Jenny' is so pedestrian, so …déclassé."

Sheldon, lost in a lovestruck gaze, managed to croak out a few incoherent squeaks.

_Holy smoke, what's with the attitude?_ Brad wondered.  "Well, _Jennifère_, where have you been all morning?  And … and what's the deal with that stuff all over you?"

Jenny struck a pose, resting her hand on her hip.  "Ha, ha, ha … oh, Bradley, your concern is so _amusing_.  This, 'stuff', as you put it, is a special surprise that Max – oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Marquis – had made just for me, for the show tonight.  It's paint, mixed up with finely ground diamond dust.  I had to get my first application last night, and another this morning, to give it proper time to dry.  You can't _rush_ beauty, you know."

Sheldon finally managed to untangle his tongue.  "Jenny!  I mean … Jennifère!  I mean … these are for you!"  He held out the bouquet of roses to her, with sweat rolling down his forehead, still stunned by Jenny's sparkling new look.

"_More_ flowers.  Yes, very charming, Sheldon," she said with a patronizing tone.  Then she snapped her fingers and raised her voice.  "Brit!  Tiff!"

The Krust cousins fought their way through the mob, elbowing and shoving students aside, in answer to Jenny's summons.  Brit was carrying Jenny's backpack, and Tiff was carrying several bags stuffed with supplies in each hand.  They each looked tired, and huffed as they finally caught up to Jenny.  Brit pasted a big smile on her face and wiped a loose strand of hair from her face.  "I'm so sorry we fell behind, Jennifère!  We got a little … er … _trampled_ by your fans."

"Yes, they do get a little enthusiastic, don't they?"  Jenny gestured towards Sheldon's roses.  "Tiffany, be a dear and do something with these, will you?"

"I'm all over it, ma'am!"  Tiff snatched the roses out of Sheldon's hand and jammed them in one of her tote bags.

"I can't let anything smudge the finish on my outer shell, you see.  It's all so _very_ inconvenient," smiled Jenny.

Brad was starting to lose his patience.  "Listen, _Jenny_, we've got something really important to tell you.  I don't think you can trust that Marquis guy!  I know I sure don't trust him.  And I don't think you should go to that fancy show at his mansion tonight.  You might be in danger!"

Jenny laughed.  "Oh, Bradley, still with your fantasies about evil masterminds and master plots?  The only thing I'll be in danger of tonight is going blind from all of the camera flashbulbs going off in my face.  Max has been a perfect gentleman to me all week long, and he's going to make me an international supermodel.  Maybe you're just a _little_ bit jealous that I'm spending so much time around a rich, successful, cultured man?  Don't worry, Bradley.  I won't forget the little people when I'm famous."

She fanned her face a bit.  "My, I'm feeling a bit overheated.  Brittany, be a sweetie and open up a can for me, will you?"

Brit grabbed a tote bag from Tiff, fumbled around, and pulled out a can of motor oil.  "Here you go, dear!  Just give me a second!"  It took Brit a few tries to get the spout in the can, and she spilled some oil on her blouse in the process.  "My fault!  Clumsy me.  Here you are!"

Jenny leaned to sip from the spout, then … "What is _this_?  This is 10-W-40!  Do I look like a _farm tractor_ to you?!?  I specifically asked for 10-W-30!  Lightweight!"

"I'm so sorry!  Stupid, stupid me!  I … I'll be right back!"  Brit took off down the hall.

"And make sure it's _Venezuelan_ this time!" Jenny shouted after her.  She turned with a smile.  "Well this has all been so much fun, boys – we really must do it again soon.  Have your people call my people.  Gotta run now.  _Toodles_.  Come on, Tiffany."  And with that, Jenny, Tiff, and her entourage paraded away, down the hall.

Drew stared in absolute disbelief.  "Parallel universe.  That's _gotta_ be it.  We've been flung into a parallel universe."  He nudged Sheldon's shoulder, looking for signs of life.  The poor fellow was a statue, with a look of rapturous bliss pasted over his face.

Sheldon finally spoke.  "I never knew … that angels flew so low," he sighed.

Brad frowned.  "I'm not sure if _angel_ is the word I'm looking for.  Man, there's no way she's going to listen to us.  I'm telling you, something big is going to happen at that mansion tonight.  Something big is going to happen, and we need to be there to keep an eye on Jenny, whether she wants it or not."

"Oh, and just how are we supposed to do that?" Drew asked sarcastically.  "You'd have to be a millionaire to get invited to that place tonight.  And seeing as how you're … oh, about a million dollars short, I can't say that I like your chances.  And without one of _Jennifère's_ invitations, there's no way that a _high school student_ is getting in to the diamond show."

"I'm going to be at the diamond show," said a voice from behind them.  Miguel had been getting a few books from his locker, and had overheard their conversation.

"You're going to be at Maximillian Marquis' swanky mansion tonight?" asked Brad, surprised.

"Yeah, I'm working there.  My dad owns a temp agency, and he got the contract to supply a whole bunch of extra servants for that big fancy shindig.  Those millionaires love having guys come around with the little trays of cheese and fish eggs and junk!  Kind of a drag, but hey, alls I know is that those are some _muy_ _grande _tippers.  This time tomorrow, I'm going to be shopping for my new mountain bike!"

A wide smile grew on Brad's face.  "You say that Marquis is hiring a whole bunch of temps to work at his party tonight?"

Drew slapped his face.  "Oh, no."

Brad patted Miguel on the shoulder.  "Think he could use two more?  Who agree to give you _all the money_ they make on the night?"

Miguel grinned.  "Brad, _amigo_ … let's talk business!"

* * *

Continued in Chapter Seven

* * *


	7. Nobody Does It Better

* * *

Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Seven – Nobody Does It Better

* * *

The Marquis Mansion was beyond anything that Brad had ever seen before in his life.  It was a_ palace_.  The fountain out front had been shipped over from France.  The front yard was larger than a football field, and there was a private golf course in the back.  The building glistened with an ivory white, highlighted by gold trim atop its grand columns.  Wealthy guests arrived at the main entrance in exotic cars that Brad had only seen before on the pages of auto magazines.  Somebody had told him that the mansion contained over a hundred rooms; now that he was walking around in it, that seemed like an underestimate. 

The hallways were covered in rich, decorative carpeting and expensive oriental rugs.  Statues, sculptures, and paintings lined the walls – a collection that must have rivaled any museum in the world.  Elegant chandeliers hung from the high, arched ceilings.  And the upper crust of high society milled about, dressed in expensive tuxedos and gowns, trying to look fashionably disinterested in the evening.

Brad found it hard not to gawk at his surroundings, like a tourist on his first visit to a big city.  He had to fight to keep from grinning like an idiot as he strolled around, wearing a white jacket, bow tie, and white gloves, "pretending" to be a waiter.

Drew was looking like his old human self for the evening, complete with waiter's uniform.  He nervously fidgeted with the arrangement of shrimp puffs on his serving tray.  "Well, we've been here almost an hour, and so far, nothing.  I haven't even _seen_ Jenny yet.  Are you sure she's actually _here_?"

"Of course she's here!" chuckled Brad.  "I heard she's not even supposed to come out until eight-thirty … in about half an hour.  She'll probably be in the main ballroom, where all the most expensive displays are set up.  The only problem is, only the full-time staff are allowed in that room."

"Oh, well, that's just great," groaned Drew.  "I spend an evening peddling stuffed oysters to a bunch of old farts who look like the little guy on the _Monopoly_ box, and we're not even going to see her."

"I'll think of something," smiled Brad.  "Hey, I got us into the mansion, didn't I?  Haven't I been right about everything so far?  _Just trust me!_  All I have to do is get into the main ballroom, and then I can snap a few photos with _this_ little baby."  Brad reached into his pocket and pulled out an ordinary-looking ball-point pen.

Drew snatched the pen from Brad's hand and looked at the barrel.  It read _Secret Agent Johnny Zoom Spy Cam_.  "Brad … _please, please_ tell me you didn't bring a toy camera to spy on Jenny with."

"Tuck uses this thing on me all the time, the little sneak.  It takes great pictures!  I still need to get _something_ for my Career Week project.  And we're not here to _spy_ on Jenny.  We're just here to secretly watch her and see if anything strange happens …"  Brad glanced around and laughed.  "Okay, okay … yeah, we're here to spy on her.  Isn't it _cool_!?!  Get a load of this place!  It's like we're at some foreign embassy, on a mission to steal top secret microfilm for a nuclear submarine!"

Drew gritted his teeth.  "Look, I'm here for one reason.  You've got me convinced that this Marquis guy is tricking Jenny, and I'm here to watch out for her.  Other than that, I don't want to cause trouble.  And neither should you, _Secret Agent Zoom_."

"We're not going to _cause trouble_.  Now, while _I_ check out the main ballroom, _you're_ going to sneak around the rest of the mansion to look for anything suspicious."

Drew's eyes almost shot out of his head.  "_Sneak around?!?_  Sure, why not?  Hey, tomorrow night, why don't we go on a panty raid at the White House?  Brad, how am I supposed to just 'sneak around' in a place like this?!?"

Now it was Brad's turn to be sarcastic.  "Gee, I don't _know_.  You're a shape-shifting android who can slide under doors, flow through keyholes, and make himself look like anything.  You _think_ that might help?  Come on, Drew, use your imagination!"

_How was it that Brad could say stuff like that, and make it sound perfectly logical?_  "Yeah, right now I'm imagining myself with a prison record.  OK, I'll think of something."

"Sweet!  I'll meet you back here in an hour."  With that, Brad carried his tray of imported cheese towards the north wing of the mansion, where the main part of the show was taking place.  Drew took his tray of hors d'oeuvres and slumped off to one of the drawing-rooms, wondering what in blazes he was even supposed to be looking for.  He was beginning to wonder if maybe Jenny had been right after all … maybe Brad's imagination was getting the better of him.

* * *

Brad made his way towards the main ballroom, formulating a plan in his head as he served appetizers.  He would have to fool the door attendant into thinking that he was one of the permanent staff at the mansion.  _I'm going to have to make myself sound older, _he thought_.  I should probably use a phony name too.   I'll just walk in with a group of other servers, so he doesn't get suspicious.  Yessir, it's just a matter of coming up with the perfect plan._

But while coming up with the "perfect plan", Brad nearly ran over a middle-aged man in a fancy tuxedo.  "Oops!  Uh … sorry about that, sir," Brad apologized.

"Quite alright," replied the man, in a flat, droning voice.  "Ooh!  Is that cheese?!?  May I … ?"

Brad's tray was filled with nothing _but_ cheese.  "Uh … sure.  Help yourself, sir."

The thin man gleefully popped cheese into his mouth with both hands.  "Mmmm … Brie, Camembert, Roquefort … oh, it's all so wonderful!  I do so love fine cheese!"  Then he stopped, with a concerned look on his face.  "Oh right, I just remembered."

"What?" asked Brad.

"I'm allergic to cheese."  The man's cheeks grew a little puffy, and he clamped his hand over his mouth.

"I think there's a bathroom over here, sir!"  Brad helped the little man down a side hallway.  There were dozens of doors - one of them _had_ to be a guest bathroom.  Brad guessed right on the third door, and helped the man inside.

"You're very helpful, young man.  Would you please hold my jacket for me while I … eh … tend to business here? …"

_Oh, for crying out loud_ … "Of course, sir."  _Great, now I'm a human coat rack for this rich dweeb_.  Brad brushed a few cheese crumbs off of the tuxedo jacket.  The lapels were soft silk, it looked very expensive … and it looked just about his size.

A small smile grew on Brad's face.  He set down his tray, slipped off his white waiter's jacket and gloves, and slid on the tuxedo.  It was a perfect fit.  With his black pants and bow tie, Brad looked like just another guest at the show.  _No way I could get away with this – heh-heh, oh, why not?!?_

Brad casually strolled back towards the entrance to the main ballroom, looking quite dashing in his black formal tux.  He felt something in the inside pocket.  It was a small white card, engraved with fancy silver ink.  _I wonder what this is …?_

The door attendant glanced at the card in his hand, then nodded politely.  "Thank you, sir, your invitation is in order."  He waved Brad inside.

_Like I was saying, planning is highly overrated_, Brad smiled to himself.  He fussed with the cuffs of his shirt, getting them just right, and then strolled into one of the most amazing rooms he'd ever seen in his life.

It was larger than his house, covered with an elaborate green and gold carpet, and walls of carved mahogany panels.  The ceiling was covered with a copy of some famous Renaissance painting – he could never remember the names of those old guys, but it looked _amazing_.  It was like being in an old European castle.  Wealthy and beautiful people strolled and mingled, clustered here and there in small groups to admire the many jewelry displays in the room.

And _what_ displays.  There were dozens of pedestals topped with glass cases, filled with enormous diamonds that must have been priceless.  He didn't see Jenny yet – but there was a corner of the room with a lot of activity buzzing around it, all in front of a purple velvet curtain, and it _seemed_ to be the focus of everyone's attention.  _That's probably where she'll be.  Until then – might as well enjoy myself! _

Brad rummaged in the other pockets of his tuxedo and found a small red tile, like a domino, with the number "1000" on it.  _I wonder what this is supposed to be?_  He saw more "dominoes" on a green-felted table towards the side of the room, and walked over to investigate …

But somebody bumped into his arm, and his red tile sailed out of his hand, bouncing on the table to land on a large red square.  Before Brad could protest, he heard a voice say "No more bets."

_What the – ?!?_  It was a roulette table.  _The number 1000 – I just bet a thousand dollars at a roulette table!_  Brad suddenly had a hard time breathing, but the little ball came to a stop, and – "Red is a winner."

He couldn't believe it.  _I won!  I just won a thousand bucks!_  He was so excited that … he forgot to remove the chips.  The attendant spun the wheel, and one nerve-racking minute later, the ball landed on red _again_.  Brad now had _four_ thousand dollars.  He took a seat next to the roulette wheel, removed his tiles … then he grinned, and pushed them all back onto the red square.

"You like to take chances, don't you?" laughed a silken voice, rich with a French accent.  Brad turned to see a stunning young woman in a red evening dress sit down next to him.  Her long black hair flowed halfway down her back, and she smiled playfully at him with deep, dark eyes.

_This is now, officially, the coolest night of my life.  _Brad was totally losing himself in the part.  "Well, they … do make life more _interesting_," he said, in a deep, suave voice.

"Red is a winner again," said the attendant, and a few people applauded as Brad collected his eight thousand-dollar markers.  Brad left them on the table, and glanced at the woman with a charming smile.  "Red always was my favorite color, Miss … ?"

"LaRose.  Ruby LaRose.  I hope it is also your _luckiest_, mister …?"

"Brad," he smiled, arching an eyebrow.  "James Brad."

On cue, the steel ball landed on red _again._  More polite applause from around the table.  Brad handed one of his markers to Ruby.  "It would appear that red _is_ my lucky color tonight."  _I can't believe I just said that with a straight face!  I am in – the – zone._  "I assume you must be one of the models?"

Ruby giggled.  "Oh, you are too kind!  No, but I do work for Monsieur Marquis.  If you like, I can show you some of the more interesting exhibits around the room, before the main activities begin."

"I can't think of anything I'd enjoy more," he said, as debonairly as possible.  Brad rose from the table, and offered Ruby his arm.

She wrapped her hands around his arm, and waved one of the waiters over.  "A mineral water for myself, please.  And for you – what will you have to drink?"

Brad smoothed out the sleeve of his tuxedo.  "Chocolate malted.  Shaken, not stirred."

"What would you would like to see first?  Diamonds?  Emeralds?  Opals?"

"Well, I've just recently developed an interest in _rubies_," he said with a wink.

"I think I'm beginning to like you, Mister Brad," she laughed.

"Please … call me James."

* * *

It wasn't terribly original, but air ducts really were a great way to sneak around in a building.  In the movies, they were always conveniently large enough for a person to navigate.  The ducts in the mansion were only half that size, and had frequent turns and bends that would've been impossible to crawl through – unless you happened to have a body made of silver play-doh.

Drew flowed through the ceiling ductwork in the east wing of the mansion, trying to keep track of which rooms he'd peeked in, and which ones he had yet to explore.  He hadn't seen anything very interesting yet, if you didn't count the little spectacle in the guest room four vents back – and he planned on forgetting he'd ever seen _that_.

He sloshed himself up to the next vent, which he thought should've be another guest bedroom – but it wasn't.  It seemed to be a grand conference room of some kind.  _Oh, great.  Now I'm lost.  I must have taken a wrong turn back there somewhere …_

But this room turned out to be interesting after all.  Two men in white laboratory smocks were hunched over a large sheet of paper that had been unrolled on a large oak table.  Drew had a hard time seeing it, since their bodies were blocking his view.  It looked too strange to be blueprints – at least of anything _he'd_ even seen before.

Their conversation sounded very technical.  "So we're agreed on the coordinates.  I just wanted to go over this latest geological survey.  Came in fresh from the satellite this morning.  Jenkins is updating the subsurface data."

"Everything sounds good.  No surprises really, but it doesn't hurt to do one last check.  We'll relay the information back to the computers on the _Moonsword_, and let Marquis know that everything is a _go_ for tonight."

The two men walked out of the conference room, and locked the ornately carved door behind them.  As their footsteps faded down the hallway, a thick stream of silver syrup poured out of the air vent on the wall, and started to pool on the carpet.  Drew was getting pretty good at this, and in six seconds, he had squished and oozed himself back to his android form.

"The computers on the _Moonsword_?" Drew wondered aloud.  _Weirder and weirder.  Okay, what is all this garbage for?_  He walked over to the conference table to get a better look at the huge chart.  It had grid lines crisscrossing all over it … and the margins were labeled "latitude" and "longitude".  This was a _map_.  There was a legend in the upper left-hand corner …

"Lunar Mineral Study?"  This was a map of the _moon_.

A map covered with red dotted lines, with labels like "primary target" and "secondary target".

Drew took a deep breath.  Of course he didn't need to breathe – but somehow it still had a calming effect.  _All right, don't get too excited.  This doesn't mean anything_.  Marquis owned mines on the moon, so it only made sense – but what had that man meant by "a go for tonight?"  And the word _target_ had implications of its own.  _Looks like Brad was right – something big is going to happen._

The rattle of the elaborate brass door handle snapped him back to alertness.  Drew slid underneath the heavy oak table just as the two lab-smocked men came back into the room.  They started collecting the maps and diagrams, joking back and forth as they worked.

"So how rich do you think you'll be by this time tomorrow?"

"Rich enough to retire and buy my own little island somewhere.  Of course, I suppose I should wait a few months before doing _that_."

"You know, my mother-in-law just retired.  She bought herself a condominium, down in Miami.  Too bad for her, eh?  Heh, heh, heh … I never liked my mother-in-law very much.  Actually, I never liked _Florida_ very much."

The two men enjoyed a nasty, cruel laugh as Drew sat behind a heavy table leg, trying to remain as silent as possible.  He didn't have a clue as to what the two men even _meant_ – but somehow the laughter was tinged with menace, and evil.  As soon as could sneak out of the room, he had to get back to Brad and Jenny and warn them.  Whatever was going to happen tonight was going to be _bad_.

* * *

Continued in Chapter Eight

* * *


	8. Curtain Going Up

* * *

Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Eight – Curtain Going Up

* * *

Jenny peeked through the curtain out into the crowd of wealthy socialites, chatting amongst themselves, noses in the air – definitely not a very friendly-looking bunch.  She'd been looking forward to this moment all week long, and now that it was finally here, she was having a serious case of stage fright.  "I – I'm not sure if I can do this," she stammered to her "coach".  "What if they just see a robot freak?  What if they don't like me?"

The older lady was putting a final polish on the blue-white diamond-paint highlights covering Jenny's pigtails.  "Don't worry about it, sweetie.  Just pick your friends out of the audience and focus on them."

Jenny smiled weakly.  "Yeah … my _friends_."  It had been so satisfying to give the Diamond Expo invitations to Brit and Tiff earlier today; it had been a lot of fun making them run around and tend to her every whim.  But she hadn't seen them since they arrived at the mansion, and they hadn't said two words to her all night.  _They're probably chasing after millionaires' sons._  So for all practical purposes, she was here all alone.  The greatest night of her life, spent in a room filled with strangers.

"Jennifer, Jennifer … why do you look so sad?"

Maximillian Marquis was walking around "backstage", in the room adjoining the main ballroom, performing a last-minute "inspection" of his employees.  He walked over to Jenny, beaming a confident smile.  "My, just look at you!  You are a truly sight to behold!"

And she had to admit, the transformation was astounding.  The coatings of diamond-paint made her metal skin shine like a crystal from head to toe.  "I suppose I'm just a little anxious.  Are you sure I look all right?"

Marquis made a grand, sweeping gesture.  "Jennifer, you would shame Aphrodite herself into hiding!  But you are missing one very important thing."

She grimaced, concerned.  "Oh, no!  What is it?  What did I forget?!?"

Marquis pulled out a black velvet case, and opened the lid.  Inside was an amazing diamond necklace, with rows of blue-white diamonds strung together, encircling a single, large icy blue lunar diamond.  Jenny thought that it might be the most beautiful thing she had ever seen before in her life.

He slid it around her slim neck, fastened it, then stepped back to admire the masterpiece.  Then he gestured to one of the dressing-room mirrors.  "What do you think?" he impishly smiled.

Jenny just stared at her reflection, in a dreamy fog.  "It's beautiful," she finally mouthed.  "The big diamond actually matches my paint color!"

"It does at that," said Marquis.  "It is as if it were made just for you."  Marquis had to grin to himself at his little joke.  _Of course it was made just for you, foolish girl._  So was the microchip hidden behind that diamond.  Marquis stroked the large blue-white diamond capstone of his walking-stick.  Everything was coming together.  It was only a matter of time now.

* * *

The side hallway was the best place to slip back into the crowd unnoticed.  As soon as the tuxedo-clad security guard rounded the corner, a river of silver molasses flowed from the small ventilation grate and piled itself up into a six-foot tall pillar of shiny goo.  After a few seconds of _schlorping_, Drew had re-formed himself into his human appearance, complete with waiter's uniform.

He started walking in the direction of the kitchen, but then he remembered that he was early …it was only eight-thirty.  Brad had said that he was going to check out the main ballroom.  _Pffft.  Yeah, like he got in there_, Drew sneered to himself.  Brad was a persistent guy, though, and he was probably still trying to figure out a way to weasel in, so Drew turned around and headed for the main ballroom.

* * *

Ruby gestured to a huge blue jewel sitting on a velvet pillow.  "And at over seven hundred carats, this is the world's largest sapphire, unearthed from one of our mines in South Africa.  The King of England wanted to buy it for his wife, but Monsieur Marquis would not sell," she laughed.

"Just as well," quipped Brad, "a girl could hurt herself wearing that on her finger."  He was still trying to be charming – _and succeeding, I might add!_ – but he started to realize that Ruby had more than a passing knowledge about jewels.  "You certainly know a lot about pretty rocks, Miss LaRose.  Do you sell them?"

"No, I _find_ them.  I am one of Monsieur Marquis' chief geologists."  Brad was amazed at how seductive the word _geologist_ could be when spoken in a French accent.

"A geologist?  I must say, it's a bit difficult to picture you with a pick-axe and a miner's helmet."

"Oh, I have a pick-axe," she laughed.  "But I do not wear a miner's helmet.  I wear an astronaut's helmet.  My specialty is lunar geology."

"Wow, you work on the _moon_!?!  That's so cool!"  Brad caught himself, and coughed a few times.  "I mean … how very interesting.  The commute must be terrible."

"Monsieur Marquis has always been fond of lunar diamonds," explained Ruby.  She led Brad over to an exhibit at the back of the room, where some lunar diamonds were on display below a large color mural depicting a mining outpost on the moon's surface.  There were other photos showing some of the equipment used to extract the diamonds.  One photo showed space-suited workers and robots riding down into a deep mine shaft.

"Looks like difficult work," said Brad, back in character.  _Lunar diamonds … that's what we heard the old rich guy talking about last night._  "So is that all a geologist does?  Dig for diamonds in the dirt?"  Brad gave her a playful, suave smile.

"It's a bit more than that," she grinned.  "We use sophisticated equipment to locate the diamonds before we ever start digging.  Diamonds are buried much, much deeper than they are here on Earth.  Sometimes hundreds of miles."

"Must take a while to drill a hole that long," Brad wondered aloud, looking at the photos.

"We use lasers now," explained Ruby.  "Some of the lasers that you see in these photographs actually use diamonds to generate the beam.  Humorous, is it not?  Using a diamond to dig for more diamonds?"

_Wait a second_ … he remembered a bit more.  "Do they use _Jovian_ diamonds for the laser beams?"

Suddenly Ruby's mood seemed to cool off a bit, as if she was upset that he knew that little fact.  "The show is about to begin," she said, "but sadly, I do not believe that you will be staying to enjoy the festivities."

That surprised him.  "What do you mean by that?!?"

Ruby smiled, and nodded to somebody – Brad suddenly realized that someone was standing directly behind him.  Somebody _tall_.  And _robotic_.  He turned around, and found himself staring into a silver-black, double-M insignia, painted on a large, powerful metallic chest.  He gulped hard, and slowly looked up, and up, until his eyes met with an annoyed face, arrogantly smiling back down at him.

"Allow me to introduce you to Rojack," she said, in a mocking voice.  "But then again, I believe that you two have already met, _n'est-ce pas_?"

Brad turned to Ruby with a hurt expression on his face.  "You … you were just playing with me the whole time!  Aw, man … that really blows!"

"Oh, Mister Brad … or should I call you 'James'?"  She laughed, and shrugged her shoulders.  "_C'est la guerre._  Now, you are trespassing, and Rojack would like you to quietly leave the room with him.  I believe he would like to have a little … _conversation_ with you."

* * *

Maximillian Marquis gestured dramatically towards the velvet curtains.  "… and so, ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present to you, my premier collection … Jewels of the Cosmos!"

Jenny fought a wave of panic as the curtains drew back, revealing a crowd of several hundred people staring right at her.  A few gasps filled the room as they took in her sparkling appearance, and the lunar diamonds draped over her metal skin.  She was surrounded by six pedestals, three on each side, each showcasing one of the football-sized purple Jovian diamonds that she had cut a few days ago.  The large quartz mirrors stood in a semicircle around the platform, reflecting the brilliance of the jewels many times over.  All she could hear were hushed whispers and the clicking of camera shutters.

_Okay, okay, get it together, girl … poise and grace.  You are … Jennifère_.  She took a few steps forward, posed just as she'd practiced, and flashed her biggest smile for the audience.  Lamps in the floor and ceiling reflected off of her diamond paint coating, filled the room with a dazzling brilliance.  Now the sound of shutters and flashbulbs filled the room.  Even the jaded millionaires decided that they were impressed with Marquis' latest extravaganza, and they started to applaud.

_Omigosh!  They're clapping!_  She sighed in relief.  Now that the tension was broken, Jenny started to relax, and enjoy her moment in the spotlight.  _Oh right – I'm supposed to show off the big purple diamonds_.  She strolled over towards one of the pedestals on her right, smiling to all the people in the room.  There was a group of jewel buyers.  Next to them stood Maximillian Marquis, smiling confidently.  Over _there_ was a group of rich, handsome young men – _giggle!_ – and over there was Rojack, dragging away a teenage boy with spiky red hair …

Her eyes almost sprung out of their sockets.  "BRAD?!?" she shouted, to the confusion of the crowd.

* * *

Drew rushed past the door attendant and into the main ballroom after hearing Jenny's shout.  Nobody seemed too concerned about _him_ at the moment, though – in fact, they were turning with a bit of disgust to see what the commotion was at the side of the room, where … _oh, crap_.  Brad was squirming back and forth in Rojack's iron grip, unsuccessfully trying to break free.  He was probably safe as long as he was in a crowd, but if Rojack got him alone somewhere – _he _did_ try to kill us both last night._

Brad twisted himself around just enough to face the main platform.  "JENNY!  Listen to me!  Take off that necklace!  Take it off!!!"  He grunted in discomfort as Rojack yanked him forcefully towards the door.

"Take off the necklace?" Jenny muttered to herself.  _Has Brad gone nuts?!?_  He was ruining her big night!  But … there was something about the look on his face that seemed intensely serious.  And why was Rojack handling him so rough?

"Get that young ruffian out of here immediately!" barked Marquis.  Jenny glanced at him – it was the first time she'd ever heard him raise his voice.  Then, calming … "Please forgive the interruption, ladies and gentlemen.  I can assure you that everything is under control …"

Drew tried to think.  _Okay, if everything's under control, then maybe what we need is a little chaos._  With a warbling, liquid _schlorrrrrp_, he oozed into formless pillar of silver-green paste.  Then he leapt twenty feet through the air, as if shot out of a fire hose, and landed next to a ten-million dollar diamond tiara.  Drew reformed into his silver-green android form, and grabbed the tiara from its display setting.

Klaxon alarms sounded, and people all around him shrieked in terror.  For once, that was exactly what Drew wanted.  He tossed the tiara aside; all he wanted to do was set off the alarm.  He knocked over a few other display pedestals for good measure, crashing display cases to the floor.  In the span of six seconds, Drew had started a nice little panic.

Brad seized on the opportunity for escape.  A waiter standing next to him was holding an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne, staring at Drew as he oozed and slithered his way around the security guards.  Brad grabbed the bottle, and tossed it backwards, over his head – smashing it directly into Rojack's metal face.

The bottle didn't hurt him, but alcohol conducted electricity, and Rojack staggered momentarily as a shower of short circuits danced around his eyes.  That was enough for Brad to wrestle himself free of the towering brute.  "Looks like that champagne went right to your head, Ro-jerk!" he laughed.  Then Brad broke for the main platform.

"Jenny!" shouted Brad.  "Jenny, take off that necklace!  There's some kind of microchip in it!"

Drew jumped over two more security guards.  "For Pete's sake, Brad, we've got to get out of here!"

Jenny left the platform and took a few steps into the crowd.  "Brad, what do you think you're doing?!?  Have you completely lost your mind?!?"

Marquis grabbed her by the shoulder.  "Jennifer, concern yourself with your duties.  My personal guards will deal with these intruders.  Return to the stage!"  His voice had more of an edge to it than usual …

"But we can straighten all of this out, if I just talk to the big knucklehead for a minute to see why he's so upset about …"

Marquis' hand gripped her arm forcefully, and yanked her backwards.  "I said, GET BACK ON STAGE, girl!  NOW!  Do as you are told!"

The words hit her like a sledgehammer; it was as if a mask had fallen off of Marquis' face, and someone different was lying underneath.  Marquis' calm demeanor disappeared, and a face of quiet rage looked back at her.  _There's no way that … that Brad could actually be right.  Is there?_  Jenny stared at Marquis with a combination of anger and confusion.

Brad shoved his way through stunned and panicked guests, trying to get closer to the platform while avoiding the approaching security guards.  "Jenny, you're in danger!" he shouted.  Then the room shuddered slightly as a pair of heavy footsteps shook the floor.  Rojack had recovered from Brad's champagne attack, and he started to lumber towards him in pursuit.  Rojack didn't have to shove people aside; the crowd parted like the Red Sea as he approached, his metal face growling with anger.

But Rojack staggered sideways a few steps as he was tackled from out of nowhere by a silver-green blur.  Drew clung to the massive robot's chest, trying to force him to the ground; but it had been a mistake to try and out-muscle the black-and-silver giant.  Rojack managed to get his left hand wrapped around a piece of silver taffy, and he sent a blast of his paralyzing beam into Drew's body.  With one swift motion, Rojack spun and through the silver-green blob crashing through a large window, onto the estate grounds below.

"Drew!" screamed Jenny.  The she turned to Marquis.  "All right, I don't know what's going on here, but you tell that big gorilla to leave my friends alone!"  She yanked her arm free from his grip, and stumbled backwards into one of the pedestals … knocking it hard enough to tip over one of the giant Jovian diamonds.  She watched, horrified, as the purple diamond tumbled to the floor …

… and shattered into a million pieces.

_Oh no oh no oh no … I just broke diamond worth more money than I can count_ … then she straightened up, with a puzzled look on her face.  "Wait a second.  A diamond shouldn't break like that!"  With a soft _whirr_, a pair of magnifying scopes extended from the back of her head, and she examined the rubble on the floor.  "These diamonds are fakes!"

Brad was still pushing his way through the crowd, now almost up to the platform.  "He's using the real ones on something called a _Moonsword_," he shouted.  "Ask him for yourself!"

Jenny _stomped_ over to confront Maximillian Marquis, who was growing more agitated by the second.  "All right, _Mister_, care to explain what's going on here?"

Marquis growled, and took a deep breath … and suddenly was calm once more, although he had look of malevolence to him.  "My dear Jennifer," he purred, "have I never told you why I so enjoy having robots in my employ?  Robots are efficient.  Robots are reliable ..."

He grinned, and twisted the giant moon-diamond on top of his walking-stick.  A pair of beeps chirped from the large blue diamond on Jenny's necklace.  She shuddered slightly, and her face twitched once – then she relaxed, and her eyes glazed over with a frosty blue.

"… And robots are _obedient_."

Brad made his way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Jenny's necklace activate.  Her face took on a neutral, lifeless expression, and she stared straight ahead at an empty point in space.  "J-Jenny?" he asked weakly.

"YOU!" growled Marquis.  "XJ-9, your first task is to restrain your hooligan friend here, while I make some arrangements to the evenings' schedule."  He withdrew a cell phone from the pocket of his tuxedo and started giving orders.  "Move the schedule forward!  Immediately!  Yes, I want to be ready to go as soon as I arrive.  Have the guards locate that bizarre silver android and capture it, or destroy it.  I don't care which."

To Brad's astonishment, Jenny stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulders.  "Jenny!  It's me, Brad!  Jenny?  _Jenny?!?_"

"Mister Marquis has ordered me to restrain you," she murmured in a dull voice.

Marquis raised his voice to the crowd, still in a frenzy over the activity.  "Ladies and gentlemen, there is nothing to worry about.  I apologize for the … excitement … but I assure you, there will be no further disturbances.  Please enjoy yourselves for the remainder of the evening.  Now, if you will excuse me … an urgent matter has come up which requires my attention."   He gestured towards Rojack.  "Have the helicopter prepared.  We will be heading to the _Moonsword_ site at once."

Marquis left the main ballroom through the velvet curtains, into a private area of his mansion.  Jenny followed obediently, dragging a stunned Brad by the shoulders.  Marquis looked over his shoulder at Brad with a smirk.  "Well, my troublesome young friend, it seems you are curious as to the nature of the _Moonsword_.  I will be _most_ happy to show it to you.  However, I imagine that you will not … _enjoy_ your visit very much."

* * *

Continued in Chapter Nine

* * *


	9. A Simple Matter of Efficiency

* * *

Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Nine – A Simple Matter of Efficiency

* * *

Even though the inside of Maximillian Marquis' personal helicopter was luxurious, Brad felt cramped sitting next to Rojack's massive frame.  The silent giant kept one eye on him, with one robotic hand wrapped around his arm.  If the idea was to intimidate him, it was working.  He glanced out the window and into the night, trying to keep track of which direction they'd been flying for the past half hour – but he couldn't see much in the way of scenery below them.

Marquis was sitting opposite him, between Jenny and Ruby LaRose.  He glanced out the window as well, chuckling.  "A beautiful moon tonight, is it not?  So full, and round, like a delicious piece of fruit … waiting to be picked.  I would suggest that you sit back, relax, and enjoy your flight, young man."

Brad tugged at his collar – he was still dressed in a full tuxedo – and looked at Jenny.  She still sparkled in her diamond-paint, but there was no emotion in her face.  "Jenny – Jen – c'mon, it's me, it's Brad.  Wake _up_!"

"She is very much awake," smiled Marquis, "and ready to do exactly as she is told.  Aren't you, XJ-9?"

"Awaiting instructions, sir," Jenny droned, staring straight ahead.

"What do you want with Jenny, anyway?" growled Brad.  He nodded towards Rojack.  "You've already got this big goon to run your errands for you.  Or maybe … you're looking to replace him!  A-ha!  That's it!  You're replacing him because he tried to steal those moon diamonds from you a few days ago!"

Marquis had to laugh out loud at that.  "Rojack is my most loyal and trusted robot.  He did _exactly_ as I instructed him to do."

"I knew it!  I _knew_ it!" Brad grinned, pointing at Jenny.  "Told ya!  I told you he was an evil mastermind!  What do you think of my goofy stories now, Jen?  He stole his own diamonds to … er … uh, why did you steal your own diamonds?"

"For the benefit of our mutual friend Jennifer, of course," Marquis said, with his rich, rolling accent.  "The whole robbery was staged so that she would rescue my diamonds, and give me an excuse to thank her – and offer her a position working as a model at my diamond show."  He laughed.  "It was not very difficult to get her to say _yes_.  She was so _very_ ready to have flowers thrown at her feet."

Marquis placed a hand on Jenny's shoulder.  "You see, I _needed_ her.  The XJ-9 is perhaps the most _advanced_ robot ever constructed.  Only she was powerful and accurate enough to carve my Jovian diamonds, and only she could have created my perfectly flat quartz mirrors.  And she still has one more very, _very_ important task to complete before the night is over."

With that, Marquis leaned back and relaxed.  Brad felt vindicated, yet at the same time, he felt bad for Jenny.  _Does she know that she's being used?_  He wondered if he saw a twinge of pain in her eyes.  Brad racked his brain, trying to put all the pieces together in his mind …

He frowned at Ruby, who was busy scratching down calculations on a clipboard.  His ego was still a little sore from being tricked – then he remembered something; something he'd heard in Marquis' workshop last night.  _No anomalies in the beam at all.  Boss, this thing is going to have twice the power you need to get the job done._  Ruby had told him about drilling mines on the moon …

"Jovian diamonds – like the diamonds that you use in those big drilling lasers on the moon?  So – you could use them to make a humungous laser beam.  Right?"

Marquis broke out in a smile.  "Very good, Bradley!  I am _most_ impressed!  Only, I have not built _one_ 'humungous' laser beam.  I have built _six_ of them."  He leaned forward, enjoying the expression of awe on Brad's face.  "You see, Jovian diamonds can generate immensely powerful lasers.  But they are very scarce, and almost impossible to cut properly.  The diamonds in my drilling lasers on the moon might be, perhaps, the size of my thumbnail.  You've seen the size of the diamonds I am using tonight.  All cut to perfect precision by this remarkable young robot!"

"And the mirrors?  Umm … mirrors reflect lasers, right?  I saw Jenny do that once.  Of course, that was before she took a job working for an _evil mastermind!_"  Brad shot an _I told you so_ look at her.

Jenny stared straight ahead, without a trace of reaction.

"Why, you've hurt my feelings," Marquis chuckled.  "The beams are so powerful that I need perfect quartz mirrors to steer them, to point them – to _focus_ them, onto a single point.  That requires a great deal of precision.  And that is where the XJ-9 comes in."

Brad took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.  "Man, if a little diamond can make a hole hundreds of miles deep … how far can you go with one of those giant diamonds?"

Marquis' mouth spread into a thin smile.  "All the way through."

"Wha … what do you mean?" stammered Brad.

Marquis gestured to Ruby with a nod.  "Miss LaRose has recently made a major discovery in her geology studies on the moon.  There is a vast deposit of diamonds, very deep underground, where the pressure is extremely high.  The entire core of the moon is surrounded by a shell of diamonds, some the size of _houses_.  Unimaginable riches – but unfortunately, no human or robot could ever reach those depths."

"Right," said Brad, "because of the lava.  I saw that in a movie once!  Uh, I think there are giant moon spiders underground too.  Oh yeah, the moon spiders would eat the miners.  Probably wouldn't touch the robots, though …"

Marquis sighed, and rolled his eyes.  "Amazingly, 'moon spiders' are not the problem.  No, unlike the Earth, the interior of the moon is solid, not liquid.  But any tunnel a thousand miles deep would collapse on itself.  Any tunneling machine would be crushed by the pressure at such depths.  A limitless supply of diamonds, so close, yet out of reach.  But the answer is so very simple, you see."

He leaned forward on his walking-stick.  "Tell me, Bradley, how would you extract the seed from the center of a fresh peach?  Would you poke holes in the peach, and chip away at the seed?"

"_Pffft_ – no," replied Brad, "you'd just … slice it open."

His jaw dropped as the words came out of his mouth.  "You have _got_ to be yanking me."

"I am most certainly not.  It is a simple matter of efficiency," explained Marquis, matter-of-factly.  "Instead of drilling expensive, and dangerous, tunnels – we simply remove the outer layers of the moon, exposing the inner core.  Then the diamonds may be harvested by conventional means."

Brad looked around, horrified, at the quiet smiles on everyone's faces.  "Okay, okay, am I the only person here who thinks that slicing the moon in half is a BAD IDEA?!?  Doesn't it control the tides and junk like that?  If you destroy the moon, won't that make, like, earthquakes and tidal waves?"

"Let's just say that after tonight, I plan on taking a nice vacation at my private ranch in Montana.  A nice, safe distance from any oceans or fault lines."  Marquis stroked the diamond capstone of his walking-stick and smiled out the window, at the fat moon hanging in the night sky.  "Take a good look, my young friend – this is the last night that anyone on Earth shall ever see it in one piece."

* * *

The sleek, black-and-silver helicopter approached the abandoned mine, far removed from any city or town.  It was just a large tunnel cut into the sheer face of a small rocky cliff, surrounded by thinning forest and patches of brown shrubs.  The lights below were the only sign of civilization as far as the eye could see.  But there was plenty of activity.

Large trucks were parked just in front of the tunnel, with dozens of workers unloading supplies, driving them into the tunnel with forklifts.  A row of tanker trucks sat opposite them, feeding hoses into a bank of nozzles on the ground, with white wisps of vapor drifting into the sky.  More workers cleared a flat patch of ground and illuminated a set of bright landing lights.  The helicopter slowed, circled once, and gently settled down on its landing gear as its rotors whipped up clouds up dust.

An attendant rushed up to open the door, and Marquis climbed out, followed by Jenny and Ruby, and Rojack, clutching Brad firmly by both shoulders.  An electric cart sped up to the helicopter.  Marquis and his 'guests' took a seat, and he motioned for the driver to head into the mineshaft.

The cart rolled its way through the commotion and towards the tunnel, as the helicopter's engines whined down, the rotors slowing to a halt.  Nobody noticed a small access door on the helicopter's side start to jiggle.  It swung open, and the cover of the fuel tank popped off.  Then a stream of silver-green ooze flowed out of the mouth of the tank, and started to form a shiny metallic puddle on the ground.

* * *

Brad grew more uneasy as the cart bumped along, deeper into the rocky tunnel.  Workers were running in both directions, and a forklift sped past, carrying empty crates back to the outside.  In the dim lighting of the overhead lamps, Brad could just barely make out a logo on the side of the forklift.  It was the familiar black-and-silver double-M of Marquis Industries, with the words _Marquis Aerospace_ written below it.

Marquis noticed a look of confusion on Brad's face.  "Oh, come now!  You were doing so well.  You guessed, correctly, that I have constructed a very power laser.  And now you know that I intend to use it to dissect the moon.  So, obviously – I need a way to get my laser _to_ the moon."

The cart stopped briefly in front of a massive door, covered with black and yellow stripes.  The workers and guards nodded respectfully when they saw Marquis riding up front.  With a loud clank and a hiss, the door split down the middle, and both halves slid into the rock.  The cart rolled forward into a brightly lit room –

No, it was a _cavern_.  It was immense.  It could have held a football field, and it stretched hundreds of feet into the air.  Scaffolding and towers lined the exposed rock, and rows of windows revealed teams of scientists and engineers, working with powerful computers.  Dozens of technicians and hundreds of robots were securing equipment and tending to machinery, moving in a quick but orderly fashion.  The vast space was lit up by floodlights, all pointing towards a huge structure in the middle of the cavern.

Brad stared up, and up, with an astounded look on his face.

Marquis and his people smiled with excitement.  "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the _Moonsword_."

A giant rocket stood in the middle of the cavern, resting on a monstrous cradle of concrete and steel.  It stood two hundred and fifty feet high, and was fifty feet wide at the base, which was ringed by four small tailfins.  A giant, gleaming silver cylinder, tapering to a blunt nose at the top, with no logo or insignia on its fuselage.  It looked like a giant, gleaming cannon shell – ready to be fired at its unsuspecting target.

Long steel arms stretched out from the launch tower, carrying electrical cables, hoses, and data links that connected to the body of the _Moonsword_.  Wisps of vapor drifted from various locations along the length of the rocket, as valves vented pressure from the super-cold fuel inside its mammoth tanks.

Brad turned to Marquis with an enormous grin.  "Okay, you may be an evil mastermind, and you're gonna eighty-six the moon, and probably cause global destruction – but THAT is the coolest thing I have EVER seen in my life!  Your very own secret underground rocket base!  This is _awesome_!!!"  He calmed down a bit.  "Uh, but it's still evil, though."

While Brad gawked up at the _Moonsword_, a technician with a walkie-talkie ran up to Maximillian Marquis, shouting to be heard over the noise of the machinery and heavy equipment.  "Everything's ready, just like you ordered, sir!  We're at five minutes and counting!  If you'll step this way?"

Marquis gestured for him to wait a moment, then turned back to Brad.  "I am glad to see that you are as impressed with the _Moonsword_ as I am, young man.  You know, it always amazes me that something so massive can take to the skies.  The power required to lift it is _most_ impressive."

He motioned for Jenny to follow him, then he put an arm around Brad's shoulders and guided him towards the rocket.  With his walking-stick, he pointed towards four huge rocket nozzles, hanging down from base of the _Moonsword_, dangling over a giant concrete flame pit.  "Each one of these rocket engines generates over two _million_ pounds of thrust.  They produce an amazing amount of heat and flame when they ignite; the flame trench is necessary to keep the rocket from destroying itself with the blast from its own engines."

"Wow!" whistled Brad, still a bit awestruck.  He laughed at Marquis.  "Man, I'd sure hate to be around when this thing goes off –"

Marquis simply smiled back at him.

"XJ-9," he commanded, "take our bothersome young friend down into the flame pit and _secure_ him.  I will meet you over by the elevator."

"WHAT?!?" shouted Brad.

Jenny grabbed a length of chain lying on a nearby platform.  She took Brad by the collar, and flew them both fifty feet down into the pit.  Brad couldn't believe what was happening.

"Jenny!  Jen – okay, c'mon Jen.  Snap out of it.  I mean – you're just kidding around, right?  You know, if you destroy the moon, that's really going to hurt your grade on your Career Week project."

Jenny marched him over to a steel pylon, jutting up from the concrete, directly underneath one of the rocket nozzles.  She started to loop the chain around Brad's chest and waist, securing him to the pylon.

Brad started to get a little desperate.  "All right, you're still mad about me teasing you in the cafeteria yesterday.  That's fine!  I'm sorry!  Now what do you say we get out of here, fly back home, we'll go to Mezmer's, I'll buy you a can of oil.  Doesn't that sound nice?"

A pencil-thin laser beam shot from Jenny's eyes, welding the ends of the chain together.  She turned to fly back up –

"Wait, wait, Jenny!  Ah … last request!  I'm supposed to get a last request, right?  Doesn't the condemned man always get a last request?"

"Three minutes and counting," echoed a deep voice from an unseen loudspeaker.

Jenny tilted her head, a bit confused.  "Mister Marquis did not specify one way or another.  What is your request?"

Brad gave her a sad-puppy face.  "I just wanted to give you a good-bye hug."

Jenny pondered that for a moment, and there might have been a twinge of sadness in her eyes.  "O-okay."

Brad wrapped his arms around Jenny, and leaned his head against her cheek.  "Hey, check it out, we're both in formal wear – heck of a place for our first date."  He patted her on the back, innocently drifting his hands closer to the back of the neck.  His fingers fumbled around a bit, and found the clasp on the mind-control necklace …

Jenny jerked away, slapping his hand in the process.  "A trick!" she growled.  "You're just trying to get my _diamonds_."

Brad rubbed his sore hand, as Jenny flew up to ground level to meet Marquis, Ruby, and Rojack.  Marquis and Ruby had changed into silver-and-black flight suits, and were just about ready to board the _Moonsword_.  "Well done, XJ-9," grinned Marquis.

"Ah – hey, excuse me?!?" shouted Brad, his voice cracking a bit.  "Look, tell you what, why don't I just forget that I ever saw any of this, y'know, I promise to keep it all a secret, you let me go, and I … eh … die of old age in eighty years or so?"

"Why, I thought you'd be pleased.  You have the best seat in the house, for the story of the century!  I imagine this will make quite a 'Career Week' presentation, wouldn't you agree?"  Marquis laughed sarcastically.  "Farewell, Bradley.  Curiosity kills more than just _cats_, it would appear."

They boarded a large steel-cage elevator.  Motors squealed to life, and the Marquis crew, with several other humans and robots – and Jenny – quickly climbed hundreds of feet into the air, to a steel walkway leading to the cockpit of the ship.  A deep rumble reverberated through the cavern as the rooftop of the silo split in two, and its massive doors slowly retracted.

"Two minutes and counting," announced the loudspeaker.

Brad pulled at the chains securing him to the steel pylon, but it was no use.  They were strong enough to hold an elephant.  He tried wriggling back and forth, hoping to squeeze free from their grip, but they were too tight.  _Right about now is usually when Jenny flies in and saves my butt.  Except that now she's working for the bad guys._

The massive rocket nozzles started to twist and gimbal back and forth to warm up their hydraulics.  Wisps of gas and vapor spat out of the huge nozzles, softly at first, then with increasing force, enough to blow Brad's hair into his face.  A low, dull whine emanated from the engines as their turbo-pumps started to spin themselves up to speed, and grew in pitch and volume.  The whole base of the rocket started to vibrate ever so slightly.

"Sixty seconds and counting."

Brad stared up at the gaping nozzle and gulped hard.  _In sixty seconds, I'm gonna be a crispy critter._

* * *

Continued in Chapter Ten

* * *

A/N – I dunno, this story's getting a little long.  Maybe I should just stop it right there … wink


	10. Bad Moon Rising

* * *

Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Ten – Bad Moon Rising

* * *

Sirens wailed, and red lights flashed overhead.  Workers scrambled to thick concrete bunkers in the walls of the mineshaft.  The massive black-and-yellow striped doors started to slide together.  That was when one of the fifty-gallon barrels sitting at the side of the tunnel did something unusual.  It sprouted four spindly silver-green legs, stood up, and jumped through the blast doors, just before they slammed closed.

The barrel bounced a few times, and with a gurgling _schlorrrp_, sloughed into a silver-green ball of taffy.  It stretched and oozed into humanoid form a few moments later.  Drew took a few tentative steps, trying to take in his surroundings.  _Now where the heck is that red-headed twit_ – then he saw the towering rocket ship, lit up with floodlights.  _Holy schnikey_!

"HELP!" shouted a frantic voice.  "Come on, Jenny!  Somebody!  Anybody!"

_That was Brad's voice!_  It rose from a deep concrete pit, in the direction of the rocket.  He sprinted to the edge of the pit and peeked over – and there was Brad, at the bottom.  "What are you doing down there, you nimrod?!?"

Brad's head snapped up, and a huge grin of relief broke out on his face.  "DREW!  Where the heck have you been?!?  Get me out of here!!!  Hurry!!!"

Drew jumped down, landing with a _thud_ a few feet away from Brad.  He laughed, and straightened out the lapels of Brad's tuxedo.  "Having some problems, are we, double-oh-doofus?"

"Forty-five seconds and counting," boomed a deep voice from a loudspeaker.

"Forty-five seconds until _what_?" asked Drew.

Brad twisted his face in frustration.  He just pointed straight up, to the giant hissing rocket nozzle.

Drew's face nearly fell to his knees.  "_Oh_," he weakly croaked.

"C'mon, c'mon, break these chains!  Use some of that new and improved robo-muscle!"

"Better idea," Drew said, with newfound urgency.  He grabbed a strand of chain in each hand, which immediately started to flow into a silver-green sludge.  Silver tendrils spread along the chain links, and the nanobots started to consume Brad's metal bonds.

"Where were you – how did you get here?!?" shouted Brad.

"I stowed away in the gas tank of the helicopter.  _Yes_, it was as nasty as it sounds."  The chains dissolved through, and fell to the concrete floor.  "Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man …."

Brad looked around the cavern for a means of escape, but every door and window he could see was sealed shut behind thick metal shielding.  "Oh, for the love of – we're locked in here!  We're toast!"

The vibrations from the _Moonsword_ started to increase, and the whining shriek of the turbo-pumps grew loud enough to become uncomfortable.  Jets of white vapor started to pour from the nozzles.  "Thirty seconds and counting," boomed the PA system.

Brad covered his ears, trying to think.  "Look, the safest place to be is probably up there.  _On board_ this rocket!"

"Sure, that makes a _ton_ of sense!" shouted Drew, rolling his eyes.  "Let's go!  Hop on my back, like you did last night in the alleyway!"  Brad wrapped his arms around Drew's neck, while Drew knelt down into a deep crouch …

And jumped as high as he could, grabbing onto a tail fin jutting out from the _Moonsword_.  He clumsily scrambled onto the top of the fin, and leapt again, flailing his arms to catch the lowest steel arm stretching out from the launch tower.  Brad held on for dear life, as they swung and leapt up the steel arms, climbing them like the rungs of a giant ladder.  They were twelve stories in the air now, with only one arm to go, the one leading to the crew compartment.

"Fifteen seconds.  Terminal count commencing.  All systems to internal power."

With a sharp _crack_, the steel arms started to rotate away from the body of the _Moonsword_, which shuddered and rumbled like a dragon coming to life.  Drew sprang to his feet and wildly sprinted along the three-foot wide arm, carrying his well-dressed passenger, and flung himself towards an access hatch on the side of the rocket … which he missed.

But he did grab onto a pipe running down the side of the fuselage.  Drew and Brad dangled precariously from the side of the _Moonsword_, one hundred fifty feet in the air.  "Ten seconds!  Nine … eight …"

Drew frantically climbed the pipe towards the access hatch.  "Just _trust_ me, Drew.  Nothing's going to _happen_, Drew.  We're not _going_ to get in any _trouble_, Drew."

Brad reached out and found a handle.  "Yeah, yeah, so sue me."

"… Four … ignition sequence start … three … two …"

Brad swung the hatch open, and slid his body though the narrow door into an equipment section of the ship.  The giant rocket engines ignited, sending four sharp punches thundering through the body of the _Moonsword_.  Drew fought to maintain his grip as the rocket shook like a bucking bronco.  With a motivated surge of effort, Drew flowed himself inside the rocket, and closed the hatch behind him.

It was dark and cramped, and it felt like riding in a washing machine.  "Jenny's above us somewhere!" shouted Brad.  "We've got to get that necklace off of her.  If we can save her, then she can save us!"  They braced themselves against the vibrations, and started climbing up the equipment tunnel.

With a billowing plume of exhaust, and a deafening roar, the _Moonsword_ rose out of its launch silo on four pillars of shrieking flame.  Shock waves rocked the countryside as the mammoth rocket climbed into the night sky, faster and faster, shooting through a layer of clouds with the brilliance of a miniature sun.

* * *

Maximillian Marquis sank back in his chair, and allowed himself to simply enjoy the moment.  The thick padding helped cushion against the vibration and acceleration generated by the _Moonsword's_ booster stage.  He gazed at the semicircle of human specialists and robots sitting attentively at their stations – his loyal crew – as they tended to their duties and monitored critical systems.  Through the windows, against the inky black sky, the horizon took on a curved appearance, as the rocket gained altitude.

"Altitude forty-one miles, speed is Mach 8.  Everything normal so far," reported the pilot.  Rojack sat emotionless, unfazed as usual, but he kept one eye on XJ-9, as if he didn't fully trust the mind control.  But Jenny sat rigidly at her station, staring at her monitors.  Marquis wasn't concerned, and besides, she wouldn't be needed until they actually arrived at their firing location.

Marquis thought he heard a sharp _clang_ from the aft portion of the crew compartment.  It might have been launch vibrations – but a flight engineer shouted back at him, over the noise and shaking, as an alarm flashed on his console.  "Mister Marquis, we have intruders on board!"

* * *

The hatch slammed against the back wall – which was now actually the floor – and Brad and Drew dragged themselves into the crew cabin of the _Moonsword_.  Brad pulled himself to his feet, straining against the acceleration, his teeth chattering from the intense shaking.  Drew flowed himself up a bit easier, but still felt the need to take a breather.

"Okay – suggestion.  We lie low back here until the engines shut off!"

Brad's eyeballs sunk back into his sockets.  "I have … _ugh_ … no problem with that!"

Suddenly one of Marquis' droids poked its head out, two bulkheads up, and spotted them through a doorway.  "Intruders located," it announced in a synthetic voice.  Buzzing alarms began sounding through the length of the cabin.

"Oh, crud," groaned Brad.

"No rest for the wicked," shouted Drew, as the droid dropped down on top of him.  It tried to wrestle Drew to the floor.  But between the buffeting of the rocket, and Drew's fluid body, it proved difficult to hold onto him.  It lunged at Drew again, and missed awkwardly, falling on the floor next to the still-open hatch.  Drew shoved the droid's head into the hatch and slammed the door shut – shredding its head off with a _crunch_.

"They know we're here," grunted Brad, "we … might as well go for it!  Let's find Jenny!"

Drew wrapped an arm around Brad, and started shimmying his way up the corridor.  It was a bit disorienting, since floors were walls and walls were floors, but they just kept climbing up, pursued by a few more of Marquis' droids.  Finally they came to the top of the _Moonsword_ … the bridge.

Brad collapsed on the floor, feeling triple his body weight.  Marquis managed to turn his head to see what was causing the disturbance, and saw a tuxedo-clad teenager flattened against a bulkhead, next to a pliant, silver-green android.

"YOU!" he screamed, his eyes mixed with equal parts fury and disbelief.  Strapped into their flight seats, fighting the G-forces, none of his crew was in a position to go after them.

Brad saw the back of a glittering, diamond-painted robot head.  "There's Jenny!"

Drew lunged upward, climbing towards Jenny's chair.  Jenny sat ramrod-straight, paying perfect attention to her instruments, just as she had been commanded to do.  Drew stretched an arm forward, towards the back of her neck …

But he was brutally slammed against the wall as Rojack lunged out of his seat.  He landed a pair of punches to Drew's midsection, kneading him like a giant ball of dough.  Drew pushed back and the two robots clattered off the wall, crashing backwards.  They slammed into a control board and destroyed a monitor screen, filling the interior of the cabin with the sound of shattering glass and minor alarms.

Rojack grinned, and reared back his left arm, which crackled with paralyzing energy.  Drew was getting mighty sick of that arm.  But as Rojack swung, the rocket shuddered briefly, and he lost his footing.  He fell face first onto the control board.  Drew wrapped a few coils of silver-green around Rojack's arm and pinned it against his chest.  Rojack shuddered wildly, suffering from his very own paralyzing beam.

Marquis growled, and turned to Jenny.  "XJ-9!  Eliminate that android nuisance!"

Jenny jumped from her seat and dropped down, her eyes glowing a frosty blue.  Drew looked up just in time to see her slam down on top of him.  She grabbed him by the arm and flung him clear across the cabin, smashing him into the wall on the opposite side.  He stumbled to his feet in a state of near shock.  Jenny glared menacingly, and started marching towards him.  With a flick of her wrists, three long, sharp blades deployed from each hand.

"Jenny!  What are you _doing_?" he shouted.  "It's me!  Drew!  Remember?  Mr. Silver Pizza Dough?  I'm trying to help!"

"Eliminate him, XJ-9!" shouted Marquis, rapidly losing his patience.

Jenny halted her approach.  "D-D-Drew?" she mumbled, in a shaking voice.

Marquis grabbed the diamond on his walking-stick, and gave it another twist.  A flash of blue flared in Jenny's eyes.  Then she lunged at Drew with arms and blades swinging.  He flowed himself into a surreal shape, desperately trying to avoid her attack, and grabbed her by the wrists, trying to hold her off.

All of this was happening just a few feet to the left of the pilot, who was nervously trying to focus on flying the rocket.  "Coming up on booster separation!  Altitude one hundred and eight miles!"

Brad got an idea.  "The walking-stick …"  He turned on his stomach, and started crawling towards Marquis' chair.  "Drew, hang on!  And remember, Jenny's being controlled!  Don't hurt her!"

Jenny shoved Drew against a console with a loud _thud_.  She wrapped a fist around Drew's metallic neck, and started slamming his head into the control panel, shattering dials and video screens, and gouging out a large dent.

"I'll try … _clang_ … to take it … _clang_ … easy … _clang_ … on her," Drew babbled.

Jenny pulled her arm back, and converted it into a giant mallet.  She raised it over her head, preparing to deliver a crushing blow … but Drew lunged from the control panel, using her own momentum against her.  Drew and Jenny tumbled across the cabin, pinballing off of chairs and bulkheads – Jenny trying to deploy her weapons, Drew trying to wrap her up and slow her down.  Finally, Jenny flung out her arms, breaking free from Drew's grip and sending him flying against the hull …

And splattering against a large, striped door labeled _Emergency Exit_.

Brad grunted and crawled closer to Marquis, whose chair was now only a few feet away.

Jenny flew across the cabin with a large electrical prod deployed from her arm.  She jabbed it into Drew's back, filling his body with surges of high voltage, causing his arms and legs to flail about like silver-green spaghetti.  Then she braced herself, reached for the emergency handle, and pulled it.

The door blasted off its hinges into space, and a deafening hurricane-force wind roared out of the cabin with hideous force.  The crew of the _Moonsword_ screamed in fear as emergency klaxons shrieked, and bulkheads groaned from the strain.  Loose debris shot out into the vacuum, flying into Drew's face as he clamped his hands into the edges of the door.

Jenny prepared to deliver another high voltage shock …

Brad looked around frantically, and found a fire extinguisher strapped to the side of Marquis' command chair.  Straining against the gravity and loss of oxygen, he yanked it free, and swung it towards the walking-stick.  The extinguisher hit Marquis right in the knuckles.  He howled in pain, and lost his grip on the walking-stick that operated Jenny's mind-control.

"NOOOO!!!" shouted Marquis.

The air was still screaming out of the ship, and the force of the wind sucked the cane towards the emergency exit.  Drew reached out with his arm, and grabbed the cane out of mid-air …

Which was all the diversion that Jenny needed.  She jabbed Drew again with her electrical prod, and he lost his remaining grip on the doorway.  He plummeted out the door and into outer space, watching Jenny's sparkling diamond form climb away from him.  The body of the _Moonsword_ shrieked past, and he was about to plunge into the inferno of the engines' fiery exhaust … _unless … one chance …_

Jenny stepped back and closed an emergency bulkhead, to the relief of the crew.  The wind died down, and the air pressure started to rebuild.  But Marquis was still in an agitated state.  "The walking-stick … if he figures out how to operate the controls … he could still deactivate the mind-control necklace!"

A loud _clang_ sounded through the hull of the Moonsword.  Marquis turned to his most faithful, most loyal employee.  "Rojack!!!"

* * *

Drew's arms were wrapped around one of the booster's tail fins.  He hung on desperately, thirty feet away from a column of fire longer than two football fields.  He still held onto the diamond-topped walking-stick, more by instinct than anything.  The noise, the flames, the shuddering, and the vibrations made it difficult to focus on anything other than the gut-wrenching terror that filled his android brain right now.

"Okay … okay … if I can turn this thing off … Jenny will get back to normal."  Marquis had just twisted the diamond.  But it wasn't that simple, apparently.  Drew couldn't get the diamond to budge.

He felt a new vibration in the fuselage of the rocket, _clanking_ down from above.  Drew looked up …

Rojack was climbing down towards him, on all fours, with powerful clamps deployed from his hands and feet to grasp the fuselage.  He had that same vicious, cocky grin that he always wore – it seemed to say _I'm really going to enjoy hurting you_.

Drew fiddled with the diamond capstone, pushing and pulling it, but he still couldn't get it to twist.  Rojack got closer and closer.  He raised his right hand, and deployed the diamond-tipped boomerang.  He took aim, and got ready to let it fly …

Rojack wobbled and fell forward as the rocket lurched.  The vibrations died away, and Drew suddenly realized that it had become very, very quiet.  The four massive rocket engines had shut down, and the _Moonsword_ was simply coasting along in space.

Twelve loud _cracks_ sounded around the midsection of the rocket, and the entire lower half, the booster section, dropped away.  Retro-rockets fired, pushing the now-empty booster away from the _Moonsword_.  Then the _Moonsword's_ main engines flamed to life, and it accelerated on its way towards the moon.  It shrank into a dazzling white dot, like a diamond, barely distinguishable from the millions of stars in the perfectly black sky.

Drew and Rojack watched the _Moonsword_ fly off, stunned, then finally turned to face each other.  Drew laughed awkwardly.  "Ah, heh-heh … you know … I'll bet you wish you had a rocket engine stuck in the middle of your back right now.  Because I sure wish I did!"

The continent of North America spun in slow circles around their heads, as the empty booster tumbled lazily through space.  Rojack, ever silent, seemed to summon a new wave of rage and hatred.  He took his boomerang, and flung it towards the tailfin that Drew was clinging onto.  It sliced it off neatly, and Drew started to drift away from the rocket, into the void …

But the tailfin gave Drew something to push against.  He lunged off in a weightless jump, and clattered back clumsily against the fuselage of the booster.  He grew short claw-hooks from his feet to hold on, and turned his attention back to the walking-stick.

"Come on, come on … turn already … this is worse than a bottle of aspirin!  Come ON, dangit!"  There must have been some trick to it, or some magic amount of pressure to use.

Rojack lumbered towards him, eager to complete his master's orders even now.  He swung through space with a vicious punch.  Drew folded himself over backwards to avoid it.  Rojack grabbed onto the walking-stick, and tried to pull it out of Drew's grip.  But Drew wasn't letting go.  _If there was still any way to save Jen and Brad with this thing …_

The two robots lunged and flipped awkwardly, trying to orient themselves in zero gravity without losing their grip on the booster's surface.  Neither of them would release their grip on the diamond-capped walking stick.  Rojack tried to wrestle it away from Drew with brute strength.  Drew tried to snatch it away with speed and agility.  Finally, Rojack pulled Drew loose from his grip, and slammed him back savagely into the fuselage.  Pinning him down, he drew back his left hand, which started to crackle with intense paralyzing energy.

Drew struggled to escape from Rojack's grip.  He grew weary and hot from the effort, holding off the monster's attack, but still clung desperately to the walking-stick.  _Wait a minute – why am I getting so hot?  I'm an android.  I don't sweat anymore …_

They were both distracted as a small glowing blob shot past them.  They glanced up and saw another one, slightly larger this time.  It was a shard of metal – it was a piece of the booster.  The front end of the booster section was beginning to glow a dull red.

They were re-entering the atmosphere.

Dancing streams of pink and green plasma hissed and screeched around them, as they started to descend into thicker layers of air.  A white-hot shock wave wrapped itself around the booster section.  Chunks of metal skin peeled away in the heat, raining back on Rojack and Drew like a shower of lava droplets.  They could feel the structure of the booster starting to buckle and twist beneath them.

Internal alarms began to go off in Drew's android brain.  The temperature was already up into the hundreds of degrees.

It would soon be in the thousands.

* * *

Continued in Chapter Eleven

* * *


	11. Unsheathing the Sword

* * *

Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Eleven – Unsheathing the Sword

* * *

Jenny grabbed Brad by the shoulders and shoved him into the large chair just below Maximillian Marquis, where Rojack once sat.  Scavenging a pair of steel rods from one of the shattered consoles, she wrapped them around Brad's wrists, securing them tightly to the armrests.  Jenny stared into Brad's face with her frosty blue eyes.  "Now you will stay there, and cause no more trouble."

"And you have certainly caused me a surprising amount of trouble already," hissed Marquis.  "I must admit, you have become a most _irritating_ thorn in my side, and the simplest thing to do would be to jettison you into space, to join your peculiar silver-green friend.  But perhaps … I may have a use for you yet."

The pilot turned around with a look of relief on his face.  "We had a few minor problems there, but all of the _Moonsword's_ systems are still fully functional.  We are on course, and should arrive at Firing Point Alpha in about an hour."

Brad tried to pull his hands free, but the metal bonds were far too strong.  He was sweating nervously, but still managed a smile.  "Don't worry, Jen.  As soon as Drew turns off that mind-control thingamabob, you'll get your free will back, and then you can open up a can of hurt on this fancy-talking creep!  I'm sure everything'll be _just fine_ in a few seconds."

* * *

The yellow fireball streaked through the atmosphere, high above the East Coast, growing in intensity with every passing second.  Over one hundred feet of empty rocket booster was starting to disintegrate into a shower of molten stars.  The blunt front end now glowed with a blinding white heat, and huge strips of fuselage were being stripped off by the force of the hypersonic wind.

The left side of Rojack's body was starting to glow, but he was still maniacally focused on one thing – completing his final orders.  Drew still held firmly onto the walking-stick with one hand, and fought to hold off Rojack's paralyzer with the other.  He could feel his fingers and toes starting to get soft.  In another minute or so, the heat would eat right through him.  _Eat right through – hey, that's not a bad idea._

Instead of struggling, Drew relaxed and flowed his silver-green fingers around Rojack's left arm.  Rojack grinned, and prepared to deliver a savage blow … then stopped.  Something on his arm felt … strange.  It was being _devoured_.  Nanobots were starting to eat through the outer casing of Rojack's forearm.

Rojack ripped his arm away, as close to afraid as Drew had ever seen him.  Drew dissolved a six-inch hole in the rocket's fuselage with the nanobots in the middle of his back.  With a surge of strength, he twisted the walking-stick away from Rojack, and flowed himself inside the booster's giant fuel tank, pulling the walking-stick in behind him.

He felt instant relief, and not just from escaping the assault.  It was over a thousand degrees cooler _inside_ the booster.  He could still hear the shrieking and wailing of seething plasma outside, but at least he'd bought some time to fiddle with the cane.  There had to be something stupid, something obvious, that he wasn't trying …

Rojack rammed his arm through the wall, and made a hole large enough to climb inside.  His silver-and-black finish was scorched, and his body smoldered with wisps of smoke.  He lunged wildly at Drew with a flying tackle.  Drew scrambled sideways, running around the inside of the forty-foot wide cylinder.  Rojack pursued him recklessly, running and jumping around the inside of the tank.  Drew managed to stay one step ahead of him …

Until the decaying booster dropped even lower in the atmosphere, which slowed it down, creating G-forces once again.  Caught off guard by the return of gravity, Drew misjudged a jump, bounced off a support beam, and fell backwards – right into Rojack's waiting arms.  He shuddered and writhed as Rojack pumped him full of all the paralyzing energy that he could summon.  His eyes spun in their sockets, then his face dissolved into a formless silver goo.  The paralyzer finally stopped, and Drew's arms and legs collapsed into a pile of ribbon taffy.

Rojack grinned with satisfaction, and collected the silver-green mass together into a misshapen ball.  He walked back to the hole in the tank wall, which had grown larger as the edges flaked away.  Outside the hole was a howling torrent of fiery chaos.  Rojack perched himself at the edge, and raised the silver-green blob over his head, ready to throw it out into the inferno.

A pair of arms shot out from the shapeless mass, latching onto the edges of the hole.  And they pulled down, hard.  Drew used his body like a slingshot, shoving Rojack's torso out into the lethal plasma stream.

Rojack flailed his arms wildly, trying to pull himself back in, but Drew had him pinned tight.  He pounded madly on the fuselage, and beat his fists on the silver-green clamps.  He raised his arm for one more desperate blow … and watched it rip off, and plunge into the raging ionized gas.  His metal skin started to streak away in glowing droplets.  Then he simply ignited like a highway flare.  Rojack slid the rest of the way out, wrapped in flaming hellfire, and drifted away from the booster with a spindle-curdling scream.

Drew flowed backwards and tried to resume android form.  There was no time to celebrate.  His nanobots worked feverishly to perform self-repair duties; he had lost ten percent of his body mass to the fires outside.  He still had Marquis' walking-stick, though.  He might have another thirty seconds to figure it out …

But the walking-stick had been reduced to a charred, useless piece of metallic junk.  Somehow, it had gotten immersed in the plasma stream during the struggle.  _No … oh, geez, no …_

A loud shriek rolled through the tank; the walls buckled and warped, and the metal started to shear apart.  Now the _inside_ of the booster was glowing bright red.  _Nuts, can't worry about Jenny and Brad right now._  Drew scrambled towards the back of the tank, terrified, trying to think.  _Okay, what happens in those space missions?  I need a heat shield … heat shield … what the heck can I use for a heat shield?_

He clutched onto a support beam as the deceleration increased to two, then three, then five times the force of gravity.  Chunks of tank wall started to tear away, letting jets of superheated air blast in like flamethrowers.  He still held the walking-stick, even though the miserable thing was burnt to a cinder …

All except for the diamond on top.

_Holy crap, that's it._  Drew tossed the cane away and felt around the back of the tank, _tasting_ the metal with his fingers to see what it was made of.  _Aluminum … this stuff's gonna melt like butter._  He needed steel.  There had to be some steel in here.

With an ear-splitting _screech_, the fuel tank ripped completely open.  The booster shredded into pieces of melting slag, streaking towards the earth like meteors.  Drew clenched his teeth as the hypersonic gases blasted his body with unimaginable heat.  One, then two fingers melted away from his hand.  He grimaced and climbed down through gaping holes in the wreckage, to the bottom of the booster section.

Where four large rocket nozzles still hung.  He crawled over and tasted one … _bingo!_  Drew pulled himself inside the nozzle and flowed his body against the metal surface.  The rocket nozzle started to warble with a silver-green color.  Steel was mostly iron, but it did have some carbon in it.  He didn't care about the iron.  But if he could get enough carbon, and if his nanobots could rearrange the atoms fast enough …

The last pieces of the aft booster section finally succumbed to the intense heat and forces of re-entry.  The tank had completely dissolved away; the pipes and pumps of the engine section ripped apart and scattered into the atmosphere.  The large rocket nozzles started to shudder, then they finally broke off, and tumbled into the fires to be consumed.  One nozzle burned with an intense red flame as iron atoms were stripped away … then the nozzle finally degenerated and cracked open …

Revealing a large, sparkling, milky-white diamond.  Drew had built a three-inch-thick, cone-shaped layer of pure diamond around his body.  While the booster disintegrated around him, the diamond-shelled android continued downward, trailing a spectacular tail of fire as he fell towards the Caribbean Ocean.

* * *

Brad had been trying to loosen the metallic straps on his wrists for over an hour now.  Not only was he not having any success, but his hands were getting sore.  Frustrated, he gave up and sunk back into the large, padded chair.  _Might as well try to relax.  And think._  Drew was gone, and Jenny was still very much under the influence of the mind-control necklace.  So … it was all up to him, a simple high school student.  Prisoner of an evil megalomaniac, on board a secret rocket that was about to destroy the moon.  _This would be so awesome_, he thought, _if it wasn't for the whole die-when-it's-over part._

Things were starting to get busy on the bridge of the _Moonsword_.  The crew of humans and robots were bringing all of the ship's systems up to full power.  Maximillian Marquis and Brad may have been the only two people on the ship that were actually able to enjoy the view.

And a spectacular view it was.  The moon filled the front windows, shining a brilliant monochromatic white.  Huge craters and vast plains were easily visible on the surface, just like Brad had seen in textbooks and television programs.  It looked like a bleak, desolate place, but it did have a weird kind of haunting beauty to it.  Or at least it would for another ten minutes or so.

Brad turned his head around to Marquis.  "For crying out loud, big shot, why don't you just let Jenny go?  Look out the windows.  I mean, _I_ could hit the stupid thing from _here_!"

Marquis actually chuckled.  "My simple young friend, if I had simply wanted to destroy the moon, I could have done it from the ground.  No, the _Moonsword_ is not a … a _cannon_.  It is a _scalpel_.  Every jeweler knows the importance of making just the right cut."

"You're actually going to do this?" Brad asked, exasperated.  "Whatever you call it, you're still _destroying_ the moon!  Think about what that means!  No more tide charts in the newspaper.  We're going to have to start calling months … er, something else!  And what about everyone who relies on the moon for _inspiration_ up at Lookout Point on prom night?"

"Oh, all great sacrifices, to be sure," laughed Marquis.  "Perhaps after I become the _richest_ man in the solar system, I will have some _scented candles_ sent to Lookout Point."  Marquis grew serious once more, and sat erect in his chair, like a king perched on his throne.  "Prepare for engine shutdown.  All crew fasten harnesses and secure loose items."

"Engines have shut down, sir," reported the co-pilot.  Brad felt his stomach lurch slightly, and his feet started to drift off of the floor.  The _Moonsword_ wasn't using artificial gravity.  He watched, amused, as a ball-point pen drifted by, tumbling end-over-end.

"Deploy the lasers," Marquis said in an ominous voice.

The smooth hull of the _Moonsword_ cracked open, and six sets of long, narrow doors opened up.  Motors hummed and whined as the streamlined rocket began to perform a transformation.  From each of the long, narrow openings in the ship, a metal truss-arm swung outwards.  The arms unfolded like the spokes of an umbrella, and then grew in length.  And at the end of each arm, mounted on a complex pivot, was a perfectly flat, six-sided, quartz mirror.  The _Moonsword_ now looked a bit like a giant octopus, over two hundred feet across, holding a mirror at the end of each of its six metal tentacles.

From each of the openings in the hull, a thirty-foot long laser cannon began to swing out.  Each of the canon barrels pulsed with energy, and had a football-sized, perfectly carved, Jovian diamond mounted on the end.  The laser cannons locked in place, each one pointing directly at a matching quartz mirror.

Marquis turned slightly in his chair.  "XJ-9."

Jenny, sparkling in her diamond-paint, turned around in her seat at the laser control station.  "I am awaiting your orders, Mister Marquis."  The hollow voice was painful for Brad to hear.

"You see, Bradley, my walking-stick was essentially a remote control.  And when it was lost, it was still in the 'active' position.  So Jennifer is still very much my loyal robotic servant."  He leaned forward slightly.  "XJ-9, enter the targeting information into the computers."

"Entered and confirmed, sir."

"Jenny!" Brad shouted.  He stared intently into Jenny's blank face, trying to make eye contact with her.  "Come on, fight it!  I know you can fight it!  You're stronger than him!  You don't have to do this!"

"Position the mirrors for the first cut," ordered Marquis.

The complex mathematics, and degree of control, necessary to aim six lasers beams on the same spot twenty thousand miles away could only be performed by a robot … by _one_ robot.  Jenny's elbows cracked open, and two extra pairs of thin manipulators unfolded from each one – giving her, in effect, six hands.  She started making fine adjustments to the levers, dials, and pushbuttons on her console, while a lightning-fast column of numbers scrolled by on her monitor screen.

_There's gotta be something I can do!_  Brad twisted back and forth in the chair, trying to gain his freedom, but his forearms were still securely fastened to the armrests.  He planted his feet against the floor, trying to gain some leverage, but that proved difficult to do in weightlessness.

"Quiet down, you," Marquis growled at him.  "I will not be denied the full enjoyment I so richly deserve at this moment.  XJ-9 … activate the laser!"

Jenny obeyed, and fired all six lasers at full power.  A blinding light filled the windows, and darkened shades slid down to protect the crew's eyes.  Six columns of intensely violet laser energy blasted from the barrels of the cannons, deflected off of their respective quartz mirrors, and streaked towards the moon, to a point just a few miles above the surface.  Jenny had done her job exceedingly well, and the six lasers were focusing with perfect accuracy.

"Begin the first cut," Marquis commanded.

"Jen, don't do it!" pleaded Brad.  But she was powerless to act on her own.  _That stupid necklace.  If only she didn't have that stupid necklace on, she'd show this miserable old geezer a thing or two._

Jenny steered the six beams until they finally came into contact with the edge of the moon.  There was a blast, and a glowing flash of light.  The laser column incinerated a stretch of rock and ash into molecules, and started carving deeper into the moon, slicing it like a tomato.  Fantastic amounts of laser energy pumped deeper and deeper into the fissure, blasting millions of tons of moon rock into molten slag and vaporized silicate.  Clouds of debris began to shoot from the crack like a geyser.

Marquis fought to contain his excitement as a visible scar began to trace its way across the moon's surface.  Everything was going according to plan …

Brad truly couldn't believe it.  He thought she'd break free from the mind control at the last minute.  _Jenny's about to destroy the moon.  Wow, is her mom ever gonna freak._  He flung himself back and forth in the chair, trying to get loose … and felt something hit his cheek.

_What the heck was that?_  Brad turned his head and saw a smooth, red tile, like a domino, slowly tumbling in the air, a few inches from his face.  It was part of his "winnings" from his little stint at the roulette wheel, earlier that night at the Marquis mansion.  It must have floated out of his pocket.

Jenny focused intently on her monitor, guiding the mirrors as the lasers carved their way down the face of the moon, which now had a deep slice over four hundred miles long cut out of it.

Brad squirmed wildly in his seat, trying to twist his hips towards the right armrest of his chair.  He could just about reach his hand into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket …

The blazing column of laser light punctured the moon like a cosmic dagger.  The laser was making amazing progress, vaporizing a channel through thicker and thicker cross sections of lunar rock, closer and closer to the moon's core, and its diamond shell.

Brad slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a red casino tile.  _This would be so much cooler if I had a laser in my watch, or a dart gun in my shoe … but this'll have to do.  Okay, Bradster … you're the Tremorton High School paper football champion.  Time to take it to the next level._  He took a deep breath, and focused on his target … the back of Jenny's neck.  Brad could see the clasp of the necklace resting just above the back of the chair.  She was only about twenty feet away.  He pinched the casino tile between his thumb and forefinger, and took careful aim …

_Fling!_  The tile whizzed across the cabin, flying perfectly straight in zero gravity … and ricocheted off of the back of the chair.

The first cut was almost halfway complete.  Marquis watched enthusiastically, as a lifelong dream unfolded in front of his eyes.  Then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.  _What is that infernal adolescent up to now, squirming about like a landed trout?!?_

Brad strained in his seat and got his hand on one more casino tile.  _At a thousand bucks a shot, I'd better start making these count._  He lined up his shot once more, and flicked his tile towards Jenny …

The spinning tile smacked directly against the clasp of the mind-control necklace, popping it loose from the impact.  Jenny spun around in surprise, which sent the necklace floating away from her neck.  Her frosty blue eyes blinked in confusion, then started to fade back to white.  She clutched her hands to her head and moaned, as if waking up from a long sleep.

"Through the uprights, and it's _good_!" shouted Brad.  "Jenny!  Can you hear me?  Are you all right?"

Marquis tried to lunge out of his chair, but his harness was still fastened.  "By the gods, NO!  Impossible!  I will not allow this!  Not _now_!  Not when I'm so _close_!"  He reached into the lining of his flight suit …

Jenny was still groggy, and trying to make sense of what she saw around her.  She seemed to be sitting inside some kind of … of space ship.  And outside the window, she could see the moon – being sliced apart by giant lasers?  _What's the deal with that?!?  Wait a minute – I think I'm actually the one doing that!_  It was slowly starting to come back to her.  "B-Brad?  Is that you?  Brad, what's going on?  What in the world am I doing here?"

"What you are doing, young girl," shouted Marquis, "is putting that necklace back around your precious robotic neck _right now_."

He was holding a laser pistol, with a diamond-finish handle, directly against the back of Brad's head.  "See, I knew you would come in handy."  Marquis had a look of near-insanity on his face.  "Jennifer, if you are not wearing that necklace within ten seconds, then I am afraid that your annoying friend here … is going to have a _very_ difficult time getting the stains out of his tuxedo."

* * *

CONCLUDED (Finally!) in Chapter Twelve

* * *

A/N – Holy smokes!  Can I wrap this turkey up in one more chapter?  Had to end it with one more cliffhanger, folks.  Let's see – place pinkie to the side of my mouth, and … MWAAA HA HA HA!  I will only write Chapter 12 if I receive … one _meeellion_ reviews!  Just kidding.  I am seriously jazzed about all the reviews I've gotten in the last week.  Many thanks to each and every one of you!


	12. Consider This My Resignation

* * *

Diamonds Are a Robot's Best Friend

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Twelve – Consider This My Resignation

* * *

Finally freed from the mind-control microchip in the necklace, Jenny was just starting to get her bearings back.  It felt like she had just woken up from a bad dream, only to realize that it hadn't been a dream at all.  Maximillian Marquis had been using her, ever since the diamond show!  _No, that's not right,_ she realized painfully – _he's been using me all week long._  And now, he had a laser pistol pointed at the back of Brad's head – and he wanted her back as his slave, to operate the insane machine that was destroying the moon.

Marquis repeated his command.  "Take the necklace, and _put it back on – now_."

The moon-diamond necklace was floating just a few feet away, tumbling gracefully in zero gravity.  Even with the pistol pressed against his head, Brad's face still pleaded_ don't do it_.  Marquis grew more tense with every passing second.  Jenny had to do something fast.

"All right … you win!  Don't hurt him!  I'll … I'll put the necklace back on.  Oops!"  Jenny reached out, and "clumsily" knocked her hand against the necklace.  It floated towards Marquis …

And provided just enough distraction for her to quickly stretch out her arm and grab the pistol away from him.  Anger and pain flared in her eyes.  "All those things you told me, all week long!  The diamond robbery, your Career Week visit, my big modeling career, all of it was a big load of garbage!  Just so you could have me as one of your little robot puppets!  Well, I've got just two words for you, 'Boss'."

Jenny crushed the laser pistol into a metal ball and flung it at Marquis' head.  "I QUIT!"

Marquis shook with rage and gestured frantically to his crew.  "GET HER!"

Two robot engineers sailed across the cabin towards Jenny, one brandishing a pair of large wrenches, the other with welding torches deployed from his hands.  The first engineer swung and missed with a heavy wrench.  The welder swung one of his torches, singeing her pigtail.  That made her _really_ mad.  Jenny punched the wrench-holder in the head, nearly caving his entire metal face in.  She grabbed him by the arm and swung him into the welder, crushing both robots against the control panel for the _Moonsword's_ lasers.  The robots, and the panel, exploded into a shower of electrical sparks.

With their controls wrecked, the quartz mirrors started to pivot randomly, and the huge lasers started to drift out of focus.  Clouds of rock and debris still marred the surface of the moon, but the thousand-mile long crevice stopped growing.  The lasers started to wander, firing aimlessly into space.

Jenny dusted her hands together.  "So much for your big _ray gun_.  But if you're really anxious to break up big rocks into little rocks, I'm sure we can find you a prison yard and a sledgehammer!"

"Jenny!  Look out behind you!"  Brad tried to shout a warning to her …

Two more robots jumped her, slamming her into the co-pilot's seat.  One of the robots grabbed the armrests and folded them inward, trapping her in the chair.  Ruby, the lunar geologist, grabbed the mind-control necklace from mid-air, and glided across the cabin towards the struggle.  If she could get it back around Jenny's neck, then they might be able to salvage the _Moonsword's_ mission.

Brad watched as Jenny tried to fight off Marquis' robots.  But it got hard for him to follow the action, since the forward windows were right behind them, and it was getting really bright outside.  Brad squinted to protect his eyes.  _Man, the sun sure is bright out here in space!  Wait a minute … the sun is behind us.  And the sun isn't purple._

Suddenly he realized what the brightness was.  One of the _Moonsword's_ six lasers beams was slowly starting to turn towards the rocket itself.

Ruby drifted up to Jenny, and was about to slip the necklace back on, when Jenny gave her a nasty smile.  Her right leg housing cracked open, and unfolded into a large cannon.  Ruby panicked as Jenny fired; but the cannon only shot out a net,  which knocked Ruby across the cabin and pinned her to the wall.  Jenny shattered the armrests, and started to pound her two robot assailants into scrap metal.

Chaos broke lose on the bridge as the ship started to rattle and shudder violently.  Equipment and crewmen ricocheted around the inside of the cabin.  A horrific hissing noise sounded from the front of the rocket, followed by the shriek of metal being sliced into pieces.  Jenny rotated a pair of dark lenses over her eyes and looked out the window …

The _Moonsword_ was beginning to slice itself in half, nose to tail.

"Cripes!  That laser is going to cut the ship to ribbons!" she shouted.  "And I don't think I can shut it off!  The laser controls are smashed up pretty good.  Brad, we'd better get out of here …"

Jenny jumped back as a disintegrator blast came out of nowhere, and reduced the co-pilot's chair into a cloud of ash.  _Yikes!  That was close!_  It was unbelievably reckless to fire a disintegrator inside of a rocket ship.  But apparently, right now, Maximillian Marquis was in a reckless mood.

He had reached an equipment locker on the side of the cabin, and was now holding a formidable-looking rifle in his hands.  "You insolent robotic whelp!" he shouted.  "All of my planning, all of my dreams … you will pay dearly, girl!  Oh, you will most certainly pay!"

"Are you crazy?!?" Jenny shouted back.  "What if you miss me and disintegrate the windows?"

"Then I will be sure not to miss."  He fired his weapon once more.

A pair of springs deployed from the bottom of her feet, and Jenny leapt out of the way, barely escaping the beam.  It hit a ceiling monitor, which vaporized into floating ash.  "Knock it off, you idiot!" she shouted.  "If you're not careful, you might make a hole in the ship!"

Brad suddenly noticed the strong smell of ozone in the air.  The paint on the front bulkhead started to bubble and peel.

A foot-wide hole blasted through the ceiling, and a thin, blinding column of purple light ripped through the front of the cabin.  The monstrous laser beam had worked its way through the front of the ship, and had reached the bridge.  It was twenty times hotter than the surface of the sun, and it was cutting through the rocket like a stick of butter.  Metal squealed and vaporized, and the front of the crew cabin started to crack into two neat halves.

Air screamed out of the cabin into space, sucking loose debris and a few unfortunate droids directly into the laser's path.  It kept drifting slowly backwards … heading right towards Brad.  His face was starting to turn blue, but there was still enough air in his lungs to shout.  "JENNY!  Ah … little help here!"

Marquis clutched onto a handrail, consumed with fury, even while his human crew fled for their lives.  He braced against the hurricane-force winds, and took aim on Jenny one more time.  She was flying towards Brad, concerned only with rescuing him from the laser, now only ten feet away.  Marquis steadied his rifle as Jenny ripped one of Brad's wrists free.  "STOP!" he bellowed.

Marquis had a twisted smile on his face.  "If either of you moves in the slightest, I shall fire!"  Jenny froze in her tracks; even though she could probably dodge the blast, Brad certainly could not.  Her mind raced for ideas.  The screeching laser was only five feet away.  They could feel its warmth on their skin …

"At least I shall have the satisfaction of watching you two perish," grinned Marquis.

A grotesque moan rolled through the ship, and the cabin flooring buckled under Marquis' feet.  He lost his grip on the handrail, and started to spiral upwards towards the crack in the ceiling.  He flung the rifle aside and flailed his arms wildly, trying to grab onto something, until his body finally slammed against the fractured hull, pinned tight by the suction of escaping air.

Brad had passed out from lack of oxygen.  The laser was only two feet away.  Jenny ripped the metal band off of his other wrist.  She could sense that the laser was only inches away from her back … then she pulled him away from the chair, seconds before it was neatly sliced in two.  Her diamond-painted chest panel slid open and deployed an oxygen breather, which she held over Brad's mouth.

"NOOOO!!!"  A piercing scream filled the cabin as the ceiling ripped apart, and Maximillian Marquis was sucked outside.  He tumbled away from the _Moonsword_, with a look of terror flash-frozen onto his face, and dwindled into the eternal void amidst a shower of metallic fragments.

The _Moonsword_ was buckling and caving in on itself, as its supporting structure was being destroyed by the laser.  The powerful reactors that drove the lasers were located towards the back of the ship.  When the beam reached them, the results would be _spectacular_, to say the least.

Jenny wrapped an arm around Brad's waist, and started flying towards the rear of the ship.  Turning and weaving down the corridors, she was looking for some kind of emergency escape pod.  Even a spacesuit would do the trick.  She would have no problem flying back to Earth, of course, but even with an oxygen mask, Brad would never survive out in outer space.  She passed a galley, an engineering bay, a computer room … then she finally saw four small tunnels labeled _Escape Pods_.

Four small, empty tunnels.  The crew had already evacuated to safety in the pods.  They were all alone now, with no means of escape.  The walls started to heave and twist as if they were made of rubber; the corridors echoed with the shrieking sounds of the laser shredding the metal hull into subatomic particles.  With the air gone, it was starting to get very cold.  Jenny's sensors told her that it was forty below and dropping.  Brad started shivering violently, and she started to grow afraid for him.

Then she saw the airlock, and inspiration hit her.  She laid Brad down carefully inside, and sealed the doors shut.  The airlock ran off of a separate set of oxygen tanks.  Jenny pressed a few buttons, and air started to hiss into the chamber.  A few nervous moments later, she saw Brad's chest take a few heaving breaths, and she sighed with relief.

She punched a hole in the hull and glided outside into space.  With a few quick twists and snaps, her right arm converted into a buzzsaw.  She cut the airlock away from the rocket's hull, then ripped the entire thing out of the _Moonsword_ with her fantastic strength.  The laser had almost worked its way back to the ship's huge energy reactors.  _This is gonna be close_.  She planted her hands firmly against the airlock, and deployed two giant rocket engines from her leg housings.  They roared to life, and Jenny sped away from the dying ship, pushing the airlock in front of her.  _Faster … I've got to get as far away as possible …_

With a horrific flash, the sky flared into a solid, blazing white.  A sphere of atomic fire expanded rapidly out into space.  Shock waves rippled away from the explosion, and Jenny braced for the inevitable impact.  They shook her and the airlock violently, but she powered her way through them, and suddenly all was dark and peaceful again.

She popped up to the side of the airlock and rapped on the window, with a big smile on her face.  Brad gave her a weak little wave.  He floated up to the window with dazzled, bloodshot eyes.

"Can we go home now?" he mumbled.

* * *

The newlyweds giggled as they walked hand in hand along the pristine beach, enjoying their midnight stroll at the Caribbean resort.  The moonlight on the crystal blue water was breathtakingly romantic.  Although the moon did look a bit different tonight – it seemed like there was a long scratch running down its face.  It didn't seem that important though, and they wrapped their arms around each other in an amorous embrace.  The young woman gazed into her new husband's eyes …

And right past them, at a hideous creature slowly lurching out of the waves.  She screamed at the top of her lungs.  The couple clung to each other and shivered in fear as a shiny humanoid figure lumbered onto the sand, looked around in a daze, and staggered in their direction.  It seemed to be a silver-gray robot of some kind, with odd green jagged stripes running all over its body.

"Where … where the heck did you come from?" asked the husband.

The silver-green android stumbled to a halt, and picked a long strand of kelp off of his chest.  "Mister, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," he moaned.  "Where I can find a phone around here?"

The husband nervously raised his arm and pointed.  "Over there … b-b-back at the hotel."

"Thanks a zillion," said the android.  "I need to give Jenny a call and see if I can bum a ride home."  His eyes started to flutter, and he looked a little punchy.  "_Riiiight_ after I take a little nappy-poo."  He pitched over face-first into the sand, and _schlorped_ into a puddle of silver-green pudding, softly bubbling away.

The young woman looked at her husband, confused.  "Who's Jenny?"

* * *

Students shuffled into the classroom for first period, filling the air with conversation.  Brad leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head.  This morning's Tremorton Tribune was folded on his desk, with the screaming headline 'Billionaire Attempts To Destroy Moon'.  And sitting on top of that was a graded Career Week report.

"Read it and weep," he grinned.  "A-plus.  Can I just say one thing?  _Boo, yah_.  Thank you, thank you very much."

Drew looked barely awake, propping his chin up with his palm, but he had to laugh at that.  "'Tribune exclusive by student reporter'.  Not too shabby, Brad, not too shabby at all.  And the pictures really came out nice."

Brad proudly held up Tuck's _Johnny Zoom Spy Cam_.  "Did I not say that it would be so?  Hey, how about your project?  How did yours come out?"

Drew flipped through his report with disinterest.  "You know, I never did find out what they actually do at that company.  They have a lot of meetings, send memos to each other, and somebody had a birthday yesterday.  So I wrote up a five page report on filing cabinets.  Behold my C-minus, in all its glory."

The sound of whirring motors grew closer, and metallic footsteps gently clanked their way towards the desk.  Jenny softly walked up and set her textbooks down, taking a seat between Brad and Drew.  She seemed a bit uncomfortable, and tried to force a smile.  "Morning, guys.  Phew!  Um … wasn't sure if I would make it on time this morning.  Is the teacher in yet?"

Brad folded his arms, and simply looked at her with a neutral expression.  Drew still looked half-asleep, leaning on his desk.  He managed to raise an eyebrow.

Jenny gulped nervously.  "Uh – wow, Drew.  You sure look tired.  Well – I guess we all had … heh-heh … a pretty hectic night last night, huh?  Yeah, I'm tired too.  Mom and I were up all night, scrubbing off that diamond-paint.  I had to take a bath in acid and turpentine.  And some of the diamond dust got into my servos.  Heh … yeah, Mom wasn't too happy about that …"

The boys still stared silently at her, and Jenny finally heaved with a big sigh.

"Okay, guys … I didn't listen to your warnings, and I kind of got a little carried away with the whole supermodel thing, and I might have … gotten a big head about it all.  Everybody was being so nice to me, and lavishing me with attention, and all the girls were so jealous – and I liked it _soooooo_ much.  I had so many admirers … that I forgot all about my friends.  Brad, Drew … I'm really sorry.  We're still friends, guys … right?"

Brad and Drew remained silent for a few more seconds, then Drew leaned forward slightly, and spoke to Brad in a loud whisper.

"Is she talking to us?"

Brad leaned over and whispered back.  "Can't be.  Don't you know who that is?  It's … _Jennifère_."

Drew's eyes grew wide.  "Really?  Wow, a real live celebrity here in our classroom!  Should we ask for her autograph?"

"Naw, that would so pedestrian, so … _déclass_.  Celebrities don't associate with 'little people' like us."

Jenny threw her arms up in frustration.  "Oh, ha, ha … real funny, guys!" she whined.  "Come on, I said I was sorry!  I feel guilty enough as it is already!  Don't be so mean!"

Brad threw his head back, in mock protest.  "Mean?  _Mean?!?_  Are we being mean?"

Drew tapped his chin.  "I don't think so.  _Mean_ would be … oh, say … using somebody's head like a hammer to bash up a control panel."

"Yeah, or, say … chaining somebody up underneath a rocket engine," Brad shot back.

"Or jabbing them in the back with an electric cattle prod."

"Or strapping them into a chair to get sliced in half by a giant laser."

"Ooh!  Ooh!  Or shoving them out an emergency exit into the vacuum of space."

"AAAUUUGHHH!" Jenny howled, burying her face in her hands.  The boys couldn't contain themselves any longer, and burst into laughter.  They each wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and gave her a playful shake.

"Are you guys going to be doing this all day?" she whimpered.

"All day?"  Brad and Drew exchanged gestures, as if debating the idea, and then nodded in agreement.  "Yeah, all day sounds good.  Well, maybe tomorrow."

Jenny just rocked her head back and forth and groaned.

* * *

THE END

* * *

A/N – Again, to everybody who left reviews – I honestly can't thank you enough; they're really great motivators.  I'd like to know what you thought of the story length – was it too long?  Did the shorter chapters help?  Make no difference?  I'd also like to know what you think of my OC, Drew.  There have been kind reviews, but I realize lots of people don't like OC's.  It's just that once I created a character made of nanobots, I realized 'Dang, there's a lot of cool things you can do with a body made of nanobots.'


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